You knew I was a wizard
by Viscountess Babbles-On
Summary: Harry comes back from the summer holiday in a decidedly different condition to which he left. WARNING: MPREG and slash
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: *shuffles onto the screen* I don't own Harry Potter, or any of his classmates or other associates. I do, however, own the phrasing of the words and the plot. *whips out a big stick* Mine! Back off!  
  
AN: Be warned: I don't really intend to update this story anytime soon. I'm only putting it up to see what kind of response I get to it. I have other stories I have to writing at the moment and RL to deal with. Basically, I just want to know if this is an idea I should pursue or if I should drop it like yesterday's whore. Either way, the title WILL change...  
  
  
  
  
  
"You knew I was a wizard! You knew this might happen!"  
  
"Yes! I knew intellectually, but nobody ever expects such things to happen to them!"  
  
"So now that it has, you're just going to abandon me? You're just going to up and walk away?"  
  
"It was never meant to last! We were both meant to go back to school at the end of summer and forget it ever happened!"  
  
"Yeah well, that might have worked for you, but it never would have for me. Especially not now. Being pregnant's not exactly something you forget about...."  
  
"Terminate it."  
  
"No."  
  
"Harry...."  
  
"No! Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. The Boy Who Lived can't turn up at a wizarding hospital asking for an abortion. And it's not like I could go to a Muggle doctor here in London. Or did it escape your notice that I'm male?"  
  
"Harry."  
  
"No."  
  
"Harry, it wouldn't be -"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You know you can't keep it!"  
  
"Why not? Why can't I keep it? Because you don't want it?"  
  
"It's not practical."  
  
"What's that got to do with it? This is my child we're talking about. I'm not going to give up on it because it's not 'practical'. If you don't want it, or me, then fine! Bugger off. Go screw some other poor boy. Preferably some other.... some muggle. At least you won't be able to screw up his life by getting him pregnant.  
  
"I'll raise my child on my own."  
  
"Harry -"  
  
"Oh don't worry. I'll be sure to tell my child who the bastard is that fathered him. That way he'll be able to spit on you if he ever has the misfortune of meeting you."  
  
"I don't think you should do this."  
  
"You can't stop me."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry felt like crying.  
  
It was ten to eleven on September the first, he was standing outside King's Cross station, Hedwig was making a god-awful racket in her cage, the taxi driver was demanding double payment for putting up with her, and his trunk was stuck.  
  
Harry blinked hard. He refused to succumb to tears again. It seemed like that was all he had been doing since....  
  
He refused to even think about it.  
  
He swore at Hedwig - something he never did, but it worked; the owl was so surprised, her beak clacked shut and she blinked her large yellow eyes at him. Harry shoved a wad of money into the taxi driver's hand, not knowing and not caring how much was there. He set one foot on the rear fender of the car, leant into the boot, took hold of one handle on his trunk and pulled with all his might.  
  
The trunk stubbornly refused to budge for a moment, but then with a screech it came free and Harry went tumbling backwards, the trunk sliding down after him. Harry had only the presence of mind to flip over onto his front, wrapping both arms about his stomach before the heavy trunk settled painfully on his back.  
  
Harry let out a dry sob of relief. At least his child was unharmed. But now he was stuck and the Hogwarts Express left in seven minutes. Another sob followed, this one of frustration.  
  
"Harry!"  
  
From his prone position pinned to the ground, Harry looked up. He thought there had never been a sweeter sight. Racing towards him were his two best friends, followed closely by their partners. Harry grinned weakly up at them.  
  
Ron and Draco immediately hauled the trunk off Harry's back and Hermione helped him to his feet.  
  
"Fashionably late as always I see, Potter," Draco drawled.  
  
Hermione swatted her boyfriend on the arm, "Draco!"  
  
The blonde Slytherin smirked at her and she rolled her eyes. Ron snorted, "Can't you two flirt later?"  
  
Ron received a swat from his own girlfriend for that.  
  
"We don't have time for this," Blaise said, "the train leaves in five minutes."  
  
She snatched up Hedwig's cage and hurried back into the bustling London station. Ron and Draco lugged Harry's trunk between them and Hermione and Harry brought up the rear.  
  
They made it onto Platform 9 ¾ with barely a minute to spare. The Platform was quickly emptying of students and the five of them had to shove through the parents fare-welling their children to reach the train. Harry's trunk was stowed in a baggage rack and the group turned towards the front of the train.  
  
Harry caught Hermione's arm, "Can we not sit in the Prefects' car?"  
  
Hermione paused, "Harry, we're supposed to. Especially since I'm Head Girl and you're -"  
  
"I know," Harry cut her off, "It's just that there's something I want to speak to you guys about, and I don't want to do it where the other prefects can hear us."  
  
Hermione shared a glance with the others, who all shrugged. She turned back to Harry, "Okay you win."  
  
Harry smiled gratefully and turned to the opposite end of the train.  
  
All the compartments they passed were filled with babbling students. There were none left empty. Draco remedied this however. At the end of the last car, there was a compartment that held only two first years. Draco went in, sat down and glared at the pair until they fled the compartment.  
  
He smirked as the others filed in after him and received another swat from Hermione, "Draco! That was horrible!"  
  
Draco pulled his girlfriend down onto his lap, "It worked though, didn't it?"  
  
Hermione crossed her arms primly and glared at Draco. Ron snorted and allowed Blaise to push him down opposite the other pair and perch on his lap. Harry suppressed a twinge of long as he claimed a seat against the window. He sighed and leant his head against the glass.  
  
He was happy for his friends, he really was. It was just that, coming so soon on the heels of his.... break-up?.... it hurt to see them so happy. The Gryffindors and the Slytherins had long ago gotten over their mutual animosity. They had been forced to when Dumbledore had instigated a scheme forcing the students to work together.  
  
He had literally stranded a dozen different groups of students in the wilderness and told them that they wouldn't find their way out until they learnt to work together. Naturally, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville had been paired up with Draco, Greg Goyle, Vincent Crabbe and Blaise Zabini. It had taken them three weeks to learn to work together and they were the last group back to Hogwarts.  
  
But Dumbledore's scheme had worked, and the group was friends from that point on. That had been halfway through the fifth year. Almost a year later Ron and Blaise had started dating, and Draco had asked Hermione out at the Yule Ball that year.  
  
Harry had gone through three boyfriends in the time his four friends had been together. Well, four if he was forced to count....  
  
Harry sighed and thumped his head against the cold glasses. He'd be damned if he'd let that *bastard* make him cry again.  
  
"Harry?" said Blaise.  
  
He looked up.  
  
"'What did you want to talk to us about?"  
  
Harry glanced at the still open door. Hermione sighed, fished her wand from her pocket and cast a locking and silencing charm over the compartment, "Is that better?"  
  
Instead for answering, Harry withdrew a small object from his pocket. He turned it over and over in his hands while his friends waited for him to speak. He ran a thumb over the words carved into the front of the badge.  
  
Finally growing impatient, Ron said, "Harry?"  
  
The green-eyed boy looked from Ron to Draco and back again. He held out the badge to either of them, "I think one of you should have this."  
  
"You can't be serious, Potter!" Draco exclaimed. Ron just gaped at him.  
  
"Harry, that's your Head Boy badge! You can't just give it away," Hermione protested.  
  
When neither boy made any move to take the badge from Harry, he let it drop in his lap. His hand rested unconsciously against his still flat stomach.  
  
"I don't think I should be Head Boy this year," he murmured, not looking at his friends, "It's too much additional responsibility. I'll have more important things to worry about."  
  
Predictably, it was Hermione who said, "What could be more important than being Head Boy? It's a great honour, Harry and not one you give up for the sake of Quidditch!"  
  
Harry's hand tightened involuntarily over his stomach. He refused to meet Ron's eyes, "That's another thing. I have to give up Quidditch," he glanced up and smiled wryly at Draco, "that should make it easy for you, Draco."  
  
"What?!" Ron exploded, "Harry, we need you on the team! Without you, Draco'll catch the snitch every time. What could be important enough to make you quit the team?"  
  
Harry looked up now and squarely met his friends' eyes, "I'm pregnant."  
  
He continued on as his friends gaped at him, "I'm about a month along now, so it'll be due around Easter. That means I can't fly all year, but the team should be all right, Ron. You should consider Dennis Creevey as my replacement. I've seen him playing with a practice snitch and he's pretty good.  
  
"And I don't think I'll be up to taking care of the duties of Head Boy, what with being pregnant and having to study for the N.E.W.Ts and all. Actually, I was considering not even being a prefect, but I don't know yet. I'll have to talk to Dumbledore when we get to school...." Harry knew he was babbling, but he didn't seem to be able to control his mouth.  
  
Hermione slid off Draco's lap and went to sit next to Harry, taking one of his trembling hands in her own, "That's wonderful, Harry. It probably wasn't the best idea to fall pregnant just before your seventh year, but it's still wonderful."  
  
Harry stopped babbling and smiled tentatively at Hermione. She smiled back and squeezed his hand lightly. He looked around at the other three. Draco and Ron were still gaping at him, rather shocked expressions on their faces, but Blaise was smiling at Harry. She slid off Ron's lap and came to kneel at Harry's feet. She reached out a hand, but stopped just short of Harry's stomach and looked up at him.  
  
"May I?"  
  
Surprised, Harry nodded, "I'm not showing yet, though."  
  
Blaise smiled and rested her hand on Harry's midriff, "I know, but you can still sense the baby if you're very gentle. I remember sensing my aunt's baby when she was only three weeks pregnant."  
  
Harry blinked, "I thought I was imagining it."  
  
Blaise shook her head and concentrated on Harry's unborn child, "Oh no. You weren't imagining it. Here, put your hand next to mine."  
  
Harry rested his hand beside Blaise's on his stomach. He felt a very slight, but very definite tingle of warmth in the palm of his hand, clearer than anything he had felt before. He gasped softly and shared a smile with Blaise.  
  
Beside him, Hermione whispered, "May I feel it?"  
  
Instead of replying, Harry drew her hand onto his midriff as well, and pressed it to the tingling presence of his unborn child. She gasped.  
  
Suddenly, there were two more hands resting on his stomach as Draco and Ron tried to sense the child as well.  
  
"Wow," Ron whispered in quiet awe.  
  
"That's incredible," Draco agreed.  
  
The five of them sat there like that, gently basking in the warmth of Harry's baby, until the train rocked and interrupted their semi-trance. Draco, Ron and Blaise reclaimed their seats and Hermione sat back in hers. She smiled again at Harry.  
  
"Who's the father?" she asked innocently.  
  
Harry blanched and looked away.  
  
Hermione rested a hand on Harry's shoulder and sat forward anxiously, "Harry?"  
  
Harry stared steadfastly out the window, watching the countryside hurtle by, "Jason Phillips. He was a muggle."  
  
'Was?' queried Draco.  
  
"He didn't.... Did he?" asked Ron.  
  
"Die? Hah," Harry snorted derisively and turned away from the window, letting his friends see the stark expression on his face, "No such luck."  
  
"Then what happened?" Blaise asked.  
  
Harry's hand drifted back to his stomach, "He left me when he found out that I was pregnant. He said it wasn't meant to last, that we were both meant to go back to school and forget all about it."  
  
"Oh, Harry," murmured Blaise.  
  
Hermione wrapped an arm about his shoulders and Harry let his head rest against her.  
  
Neither Ron nor Draco spoke. They didn't know what to say.  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC at a later date.  
  
  
  
  
  
AN: Sorry about the fact that I'm not going to update for a while. I was really feeling down about my other works and I needed something fresh and new, and - hopefully - lots of wonderful reviews.  
  
*is sinking into a morass of self-doubt*  
  
The doctors told me the only cure was a hefty shot of reviews. Please help me! I'm too young to die! 


	2. Chapter Two

AN: *scratches her head and looks at the chapter* I'm not quite sure what this is. It seems to be a transition piece of sorts, full of things that aren't really relevant to my story line. Sorry.  
  
Reviews:  
  
Insane1: Wow. I love it when I manage to get people to read my stories when they don't usually read that genre. Thank you so much for giving my story a chance. By the way, I don't do oversexed and I hate it when my characters slip ooc, so you should be safe on that count. I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I'll email you........  
  
Phoenix: I have no intention of stopping. At least not on this story. I like mpregs too, but this it the first time I've really attempted to right one. I'm just hoping it comes out alright.  
  
db17: You just started reading mpregs, hey? Cool. I'm glad my story has caught your interest  
  
Nabiki: Oh, I intend to make sure that Phillips gets his. Don't you worry about that. ^_~  
  
Riley Cat: It almost made you cry? ^_^ I love getting strong reactions........ of the good sort.  
  
SlytherinAtHeart: More reviews is always a good incentive to update. Yes, poor Harry.  
  
mike: No, Jason is definitely the baby's father. You'll find out more about him as we go along.  
  
charzy: Thanks for the recommendation. ^_^  
  
Purple *Passion: A good beginning is always a must. I'm glad you liked mine.  
  
deepforestowl: Thank you for your praise.  
  
raya: There can't be higher praise for me than telling me that my story is different. Thank you.  
  
kimi: *L* Thank you.  
  
VtE: *grins* more is here!  
  
Nikita: Ooo, I like the idea of the WIP writers' support group. Glad I was your first FF.net review and that you find me that promising. ^_^  
  
Persephone: *shudders at the thought of personality changes* Thanks for the warning. I'll be doing my best to avoid all that. Harry was just so teary because he was frustrated and all that........  
  
Saavik! Harry's not covering for anyone. Amused? In that case, I'll have to continue.  
  
Griet: Several people have suggested I post there. I've registered there, but I haven't posted it yet........ Not sure why.  
  
Ayame: Hey. How are you? Sorry I haven't been in touch. *scuffs her toes* I really am. Thanks for reviewing this chapter tho'. ^_^  
  
desertwren: You like HP/SS too do you? *L* I haven't died. Yet.  
  
oneofakindwerewolf: Who could resist puppy-dog eyes?  
  
xikum: *L* well I usually do right Harry/Sev or Harry/Draco when I slash........ not in this case tho' Sorry. But please keep reading. *turns on the puppy-dog eyes* Even if this chapter isn't really worth it.  
  
Schulyr: Sev? Who mentioned Sev? Thanks for the praise tho' ^_^  
  
lexy: my website address is It's not really a site, just a weblog.  
  
plantjunkie: *L* Brilliant!  
  
Teigra: Woo! I'm really getting people to come in from the mpreg groups. Thanks for reviewing/checking out my story. Btw, what mpreg group? I should post there........  
  
frizzy: Thank you for your review. I haven't even thought about Siri's reactions yet. *gnaws her finger nails* Or Voldie. A better plot line? I don't know. Different maybe.  
  
Jess: Oh, I hope you win that bet.  
  
venus4280: You've read my other story? =D You like Draco and Blaise? Cool.  
  
LadyAlyce: *does a little dance* Hey. You like my story? I might have to come to you for advice if I get stuck. Or else? Or else what? *evil glare back*  
  
someonesgurl: Harry and Draco do make a cute couple don't they? Well, not in this case, sorry. Don't know if Harry will get back with Jason, or if I'll find someone better for him........  
  
Terra (Sal): *does another little dance* Yay! The two people from VH I like the most have reviewed my story! *hugs Sal and Alyce* I'm so glad you like my story (so far) You have no idea how happy that makes me! And yes, I haven't encountered a story where Harry doesn't have a nice supportive partner to help him. I wonder why that is?  
  
lillie chan: I don't think I've kept you hanging tooooo long. Sorry if I have. ^_^  
  
Mikee! Yes, always listen to the doctors. =P Directions? Oo, do tell me what you think! And I do like to write things that no one's really ever seen before ^_^  
  
Katy999: Me? Cruel? Never! I've even got a new chapter to prove it!  
  
*stares at all the reviews* 34! *glomps everyone* Thank you so much! I do believe you've saved me from dying. I'm sorry that I left it so long. I'll try and get them out faster, but I can't really make any promises....  
Chapter Two.  
It was a rather subdued quintet of seventh years that disembarked the train at the Hogsmeade station that evening. Hermione and Blaise were still upset at the faceless muggle who had gotten one of their bestfriends pregnant, then dumped him. Ron and Draco still didn't know quite what to think, and Harry was trying not to think at all.  
  
At least, not about the past. Harry had spent the remainder of the train trip, staring out the window, his hands curled about his abdomen. He was wondering about his child, wondering if he should find out the gender, wondering what he name he would chose, wondering where they would live. His introspection was cut short by the train's arrival at the station.  
  
The five students claimed the first horseless carriage outside the station and all piled in. Naturally, the two couples ended up sitting together and holding hands. Harry wasn't particularly surprised; after all, it had been three moths since they had seen each other. He was just grateful that they hadn't been all over each. That would have really hurt to watch.  
  
The ride up to the castle was brief and silent, and Harry felt bad. He'd managed to dampen his friends' spirits. Mustering a smile, Harry turned to them just as the carriage passed through the school's gates.  
  
"Listen, guys -"  
  
Hermione leapt in without giving him a chance to finish, "It's okay, Harry. We won't mention anything to anyone until you want us to."  
  
Harry smiled at her, "Thanks Hermione, even though that wasn't what I was going to say. I trust you guys not to let anything slip and I really appreciate it.  
  
"But I was going to say: don't feel bad about Jason leaving me. It was probably for the best anyway. I mean, he's a muggle, right? He's only seventeen. How would he cope with the wizarding world, and being a father, not to mention the fact that everyone would be watching him because of who *I* am........" Harry's voice was bitter at the end.  
  
He turned and looked out the window again, "So yeah, don't feel you need to tiptoe around me because of that."  
  
Nobody had a chance to reply as they pulled up at the bottom of the main stairs, but Harry sensed a definite relaxing of tension about his friends. He felt better for it. He didn't want to be dragging them down with him into his well of self-pity. Which he would barely acknowledge in the first place.  
  
The moment the carriage halted, Harry threw open the door and leapt out. His foot touched the ground and he stumbled. He caught himself just barely before he landed face down in the gravel. He took small consolation from the fact that now that Draco was his friend and wouldn't mock him for falling. Tease maybe, but not mock.  
  
Harry sighed and started up the steps. He looked up. Standing in the doorway, glaring down the steps at him loomed a figure. Professor Severus Snape crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his brows further, looking most displeased to see Harry.  
  
The moment Harry set eyes on him, he felt a thrill of anger, however irrational. How *dare* Snape stand there, glaring at him like that. He hadn't even had time to do anything to get on his nerves. Aside from breath, that is.  
  
Harry glared back at him and stormed up the stairs straight at him. He wasn't about to let Snape intimidate him. The man had no right, and Harry refused to be cowed by the black expression on the Potion Master's face. And he intended to prove it right now by not backing off.  
  
He tripped on the second last step.  
  
And this time he knew he wouldn't be catching himself. His arms came about his belly. He prayed that he wouldn't harm his child as he fell, the ground rushing up to meet him. His eyes closed in anticipation of the impact.  
  
An impact that never came.  
  
Something had caught his shoulders and was holding him steady. He opened his eyes, expecting to see hands on him. There were none. Instead, Snape stood three feet in front of him, his wand levelled in Harry's direction. The professor dropped his wand and the steadying grip released Harry's shoulders.  
  
"Do be more careful, Mr Potter," Snape sneered, and his cloak billowed in his wake as the professor turned and disappeared into the entrance hall.  
  
Harry stared after Snape, confused. A hand falling on his shoulder distracted him.  
  
"You okay, Harry mate?"  
  
Harry glanced at Ron and nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"That was odd," Blaise murmured from Ron's far side.  
  
"Snape?" said Hermione, moving past Harry up the stairs, "I know! Usually he'd let someone fall."  
  
"But Harry's not just anyone," Draco mocked softly, "He's the Boy Who Lived, the great Harry Potter."  
  
Harry glared at his Slytherin friend and continued up the stairs and into the Entrance Hall, "What's that got to do with anything?"  
  
Draco smirked and his eyes sparkled, "Snape couldn't let you hurt yourself, now, could he? Dumbledore'd probably fire him for it."  
  
Harry snorted, "You know Draco, if you weren't my friend, I'd have to call you on that."  
  
Draco laughed and slapped him on the back as the group passed into the Great Hall, "Its good thing we are friends then, isn't it?"  
  
Hermione smiled and linked her arm with Draco's, leaning up to kiss his cheek, "Yes, it is," she answered for Harry.  
  
"I mean, how would it look if Harry Potter got beaten up by a Slytherin?" Draco laughed, then darted off towards the Slytherin table, Hermione yelling after him. Harry laughed. It was good to be back at school with his friends.  
  
Hermione and Harry turned towards the Gryffindor table and, after farewelling Blaise, Ron joined them.  
A little over an hour and a half later, the starting feast was over and the students had been released to their dormitories. Harry held Ron back as Hermione and the Gryffindor prefects started to herd the new first years up to the Tower.  
  
"Ron, I'm going to see if I can't talk to Dumbledore tonight, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, okay," Ron nodded, "You don't want me to come with you?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "No. I think you'd better help Hermione with the first years." He nodded at two intrepid new Gryffindors who had taken it into their heads to go exploring and had veered off from the group.  
  
Ron nodded again and loped off towards the errant duo, "Oi, you two!"  
  
Harry laughed as the two boys jumped and blanched, and took himself off towards the Headmaster's office. He found Dumbledore before he ever reached the office, though.  
  
As he rounded a corner, he saw the headmaster ahead of him, hurrying to catch up with the head of Slytherin. Harry hung back, not wanting interfere, but not wanting to lose sight of the headmaster either. He couldn't help overhearing.  
  
"Ah, Severus! There you are!" Dumbledore called in a cheery tone. Snape didn't stop, or even turn, but he did slow a little.  
  
"When did you arrive back?" Dumbledore continued as he drew level with the other man.  
  
"Two hours ago," Snape replied curtly.  
  
"Oh? You didn't attend the feast."  
  
Harry only realised that Snape's seat at the teacher's table had been vacant that evening when Dumbledore mentioned it.  
  
"I was in my office."  
  
"Ah," said Dumbledore, and paused, "I had thought you would have been back hours earlier........"  
  
Snape's step speeded up, "There were lose ends that needed to be tied up before I could return."  
  
Harry could hear the smile in Dumbledore's voice, though he wasn't sure what there was to smile at, "And how was you summer, Severus? No mishaps?"  
  
Snape snorted, "My summer was as well as could be expected, Albus. No better, no worse. Now if you'll excuse me, I still have unpacking to do."  
  
Without waiting for a reply, Snape turned abruptly and swept down a side- corridor, leaving the Headmaster smiling after him. After a moment, he seemed to realise someone was watching him and turned.  
  
"Mr Potter," he smiled, "Would you care for some tea before going off to bed?"  
  
He gestured down the hall and Harry realised that they were standing not ten feet from the gargoyle guarding the entrance of the headmaster's office. Harry followed the old wizard to the statue and up the stairs.  
  
Harry graciously accepted the cup of tea that Dumbledore handed him and took one of the seats facing the desk. Dumbledore prepared himself a cup of tea and sat himself.  
  
"How was your summer, Harry?"  
  
Harry grinned. He couldn't help it. Despite its ending, the summer just past had been the best Harry remembered, even including the time the Weasleys had taken him to the Quidditch World Cup. He hadn't held high hopes for it when he'd left Hogwarts at the end of the sixth year, and for the first two days, he'd had those poor hopes amply met.  
  
He hadn't exactly been back in the cupboard again, but he might as well have been. Dudley's second bedroom had gained so many broken items during the school year that there was room only for the bed and a very narrow path to the door. Which had a lock on it again. He had been rained with abuse from the moment he'd stepped past the barrier at the station - only verbal, but still........ No food, but that wasn't surprising.  
  
Yes, the summer had been shaping up to be Harry's worst yet. But then on the third morning, an owl had arrived. Harry wasn't quite sure how it had managed to get inside the room; not only did the window have bars on it again, it had been bolted shut from the outside. And the bedroom door was locked.  
  
But still, he woken up to find a fine old owl perched on the end of his bed, a blue envelope in his beak. The letter was something akin to a howler but more........ sedate. When he had opened it, a metal bookmark had fallen out and Dumbledore's voice had issued forth. The headmaster had decided that it was high time Harry was removed from No. 4 Privet Drive. The bookmark was a portkey (Harry had shuddered at the thought) and would take him to a safe, undisclosed location.  
  
Harry had spent a long time just staring at the bookmark, trying to decide whether or not it was safe. Despite the fact that it was definitely Dumbledore's voice in the letter. Eventually, he had decided to risk it. He gathered up his belongings packed them into his trunk, convinced Hedwig to return to her cage and drew his wand. Then he had picked up the bookmark.  
  
There was the familiar sensation of a hook behind the navel and lurch as he landed. On the Isle of Wight. Of course, he only found out later that it was the Isle of Wight. He was met be Arabella Figg, the witch who had taken care of him as a child. She took him to a boarding house, 'The Cider Groves' and left him in the care of Mrs. Smythe for the summer.  
  
That was where he had met Jason.  
  
Harry smiled at the headmaster, "It was the best summer I remember ever having, sir. Thank you for taking me away from the Dursleys."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Good, good. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Didn't get into too much trouble I hope?"  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and looked away.  
  
"Hmm," apart from that musing tone, Dumbledore ignored Harry's lack of response.  
  
"I take it you wanted to talk to me about something, young Harry?"  
  
Harry set aside his barely-touched tea and fished the Head Boy badge from his pocket. He handed to the professor. Dumbledore looked down at it, then back up at Harry. His bright eyes questioned the boy.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. I can't be Head Boy this year."  
  
Dumbledore blinked, "Why ever not?"  
  
Harry felt the blood creeping up his face, "I don't think I'll have the time or energy to deal with the duties of the Head Boy," Harry dragged his gaze from his lap, "I'm pregnant."  
  
Dumbledore set down the badge and leant back in his chair, "Pregnant?"  
  
Harry nodded mutely, and had it been any other situation, he would have smiled. He'd managed to take Dumbledore by surprise.  
  
"The father?" Dumbledore asked, his equilibrium quickly returning.  
  
"Jason Phillips," Harry looked down at his hands again, "a muggle."  
  
"A *muggle*?" Dumbledore was thrown again.  
  
Harry didn't bother to nod again. Dumbledore hummed and clasped his hands together. For a long moment, the room was quiet except for the whirr of the devices about its shelves.  
  
Dumbledore sat forward again and picked up the badge.  
  
"I think, Mr Potter, you should make a visit to Madam Pomfery and ask her to check on your baby's health, while I see about appointing a new Head Boy."  
TBC.  
AN: I'm not sure that I won't take this chapter down again......... 


	3. Chapter Three don't they have original t...

AN: Wow. Got some fantastic reviews for my last chapter. *glomps all her reviewers* Thank you so much! This chapter was meant to have a little more content than it does, but it was long enough as it was. I'm not entirely sure how it got that long........ *shrugs*  
  
To thank my reviewers:  
  
dhiana: I looked at your web address and went OMG I know this person. *L* I don't, but it freaked me for a moment. =P Thanks for reviewing.  
  
WM: And so it begins. You know, I had a big discussion about this whole thing with my friend........ I guess I'll address your points now and refer people back to them.... 1. I like Severus. I think he should help people regardless. That sounds weak doesn't it? Put it down to the fact that I SWEAR I'm in love with this character. 2. Dumbledore is always happy. 3. I didn't mean to make Dumbledore sound surprised about the father, I just meant to make him sound surprised. *L*  
  
frizzy: ^_^ I didn't want Harry having to deal with all the extra duties of Head Boy. *shrugs* I dunno why Dumbledore would really have let him off.  
  
Potter-Snape: Thank you, but I still think there was something off about my last chapter. *sighs*  
  
Ayame: Hello Celina. Nice to met you. ^_^ *shakes the werewolf's hand, er, paw* Eh, I dunno about BITTW. And OMG I'm sorry I wasn't online when I said I would be! My phone line was down and I spent the WHOLE weekend without the internet! *nearly dies* *glomps Ame*  
  
Alyce: *glomps* Just for you, I won't take it down. *rolls eyes* What is it with you people and SS/HP? Like I can talk, I love that pairing too.  
  
xikum: *rubs hands gleefully* To answer your questions: 1.You'll find out later whether or not Sev knows and if so how much he knows. *scratches head* I'm not sure what I mean by that 2. Jason IS without a doubt the father of Harry's child. I am in no way going to disprove that. 3. Oh, I'm having so much fun substantiating my theory on how Harry got pregnant to a muggle. It's quite fun actually. You find out all sorts of interesting things when you do research on the internet.  
  
Phoenix: No, thank you! ^_~ =D  
  
venus4280: What a wonderful review! Thank you. And thank you for praising my dialogue! It's what I always think lets down my stories the most. I hope to get around to telling you in the next chapter just what exactly Snape did on the summer holidays, but I won't say anything more about that now. =D Don't Harry, Ron, Hermione, Blaise and Draco make a cute set of friends?  
  
oneofakindwerewolf: *joins in the jumping up and down* I can't believe I'm updating again!  
  
Katy999: Me? I'm never mean! ^_^ *glomps Katy999* one of my loyal reviewers.  
  
Saavik: You thought Dumbledore took it well? I thought he kind of went into shock a little. At least he didn't lambaste Harry anyway........  
  
Insane1: O_O Loooong review. *glomps* *sighs* I didn't intend for the idea of Sev being the father to enter everyone's minds but it seems to firmly lodged there. *scratches head* I can't seem to understand why. Personally, I think you're all rapid SS/HP shippers. *stubborn look* Harry was NOT going to be Head Boy, even if I had to beat Dumbledore into submission.  
  
AN (again): See, the reason I thought I should take it down is because it all gave you an idea I never intended. Fair warning: Severus Snape is fairly peripheral for the most part. At least for now. He may worm his way deeper into my story. I adore him too much to exclude him. *sighs* I don't know. I'm confused about this story.  
  
Chapter Three  
Harry had managed to surprise the headmaster. He'd thought for sure that someone would have been watching him all summer - probably Arabella Figg - reporting his moves back to the old wizard. But Dumbledore hadn't even known that he had been involved with someone, let alone the fact that the boy was muggle. It wasn't like Dumbledore to not know such a thing, and Harry couldn't help feeling a little miffed.  
  
He stumbled again going down the stairs and cursed. At this rate, he wouldn't have to worry about what to name his child. If he tripped and fell wrong, he wouldn't have a child to name.  
  
Harry watched his feet all the way to the hospital wing, determined not to trip again. Instead, he ran into Madam Pomfery.  
  
"Mr Potter, here already?"  
  
She ushered him inside and directed him to sit on the edge of a bed.  
  
"What brings you to the hospital wing so soon, Potter? Surely you haven't had time to get into trouble yet?"  
  
Madam Pomfery took Harry's head in her hands and tilted it, staring into his eyes. She ran her fingers over the glands in his throat, looking for swelling.  
  
Harry choked a little, "Urch. No, Professor Dumbledore told me to see you."  
  
Madam Pomfery hemmed and released Harry's head. He rubbed a hand over his chaffed throat and continued, "I was going to come and see you myself in the morning."  
  
The matron stood in front of Harry and set her hands on her hips, "And what did Professor Dumbledore find so urgent that he suggested you come and visit me tonight?"  
  
His hands crept to his abdomen. Harry looked up at kindly medi-witch and smiled a little ruefully, "I'm pregnant."  
  
The matron's eyes widened.  
  
She pushed Harry down onto his back on the bed and parted his robes. Pushing up his shirt, she settled her hands on his abdomen and concentrated. The flush of warmth wasn't subtle this time. Harry felt it even though his hands weren't anywhere near his stomach. He supposed Madam Pomfery had done something slightly different to what Blaise had shown him on the train.  
  
Madam Pomfery pulled Harry's shirt down again and stepped back, "And so you are pregnant."  
  
Harry drew his robes together and sat up. Madam Pomfery pushed him back down again, "I need to run some tests before you leave."  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes, "What sort of tests?"  
  
"I just want to check the health of you baby and of yourself, get estimate of how far along you are, that sort of thing. It won't take along if you'll just lie still."  
  
Harry sighed long-sufferingly and lay back on the bed. Madam Pomfery rolled her eyes at him and he grinned. Really, he wouldn't mind being kept here all night if it meant his baby was okay.  
  
Madam Pomfery left briefly and came back carrying a tray of assorted paraphernalia. She set it down on the bed side table and selected one of the jars.  
  
"Now, this will burn a little," she warned, taking Harry's hand in her own.  
  
She smeared a liberal layer of the clear paste onto the palm of his hand. Immediately, it began to burn and he could feel the blood pumping strongly through his fingers. Madam Pomfery wiped her hands clean and pressed a strange silver thermometre-like instrument into Harry's burning palm.  
  
"I need you to hold onto to that tightly until I say you can release it."  
  
Harry grimaced, but nodded, "What's it doing, anyway?"  
  
"The cream draws your blood to the surface and the minometre," she nodded at the silver instrument clutched in Harry's fist, "measures the nutrient levels in it."  
  
Harry flinched when a cold gel was rubbed into his stomach. He hadn't even noticed the medi-witch pushing up his shirt again. The matron was running a bulbous looking grey metal device over his abdomen. As Harry watched, it spat blues sparks and a small holographic display blinked into life above the device. The information it displayed was incomprehensible to Harry, but it seemed to satisfy the medi-witch. She set aside the device and wiped Harry's stomach clean with a rag.  
  
"You can let go of the minometre now, Harry."  
  
Harry gratefully dropped the silver instrument onto the tray. It had turned an odd mixture of green and purple. Madam Pomfery took his hand in hers again and wiped it clean of the burning cream. She then lathered it with a cool green gel and immediately the burning sensation subsided. Harry sighed in relief.  
  
Madam Pomfery smiled and set the tray aside before taking a seat at Harry's bedside, "Well, Mr Potter. You and your baby seem to be in good health -"  
  
Harry smiled.  
  
"- But there are several things you have to be aware of," Madam Pomfery picked up the minometre, "These colours indicate that you are low on iron. That means you will have to eat more red meat among other things. I will work out a proper diet for you later this week."  
  
She set the minometre down and gestured at the other device, "This does have a more official name, but since you'll never remember it, I'll give you the common name for it: the infant-scope. I couldn't tell much at this early stage, but I can tell you that the embryo is developing normally and you are roughly six weeks along."  
  
Harry started, '*Six* weeks? I thought I was only four."  
  
The matron shook her head, "Before two weeks, it is hard to detect the pregnancy by any means. Women often mistake themselves for not being as far along as they truly are. It is not surprising you missed it.  
  
"Now, do you have any questions you want to ask me?"  
  
Harry started to shake his head, but he stopped, "Umm, I keep on tripping all the time. I'm afraid I'll fall and hurt my baby........"  
  
"Ah. I'd forgotten about that. I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done about that. You'll just have to be extra careful from now on."  
  
Harry blinked, "You mean this is meant to happen?"  
  
Madam Pomfery smiled, "In a witch's - or even a wizard's - pregnancy, the presence of the child affects the bearer's centre of magic; usually lowers it. The centre of gravity lowers as well and the mother - or in this case, the father - loses his or her sense of balance. And its not even something you can get used to: as the pregnancy progresses, the centres of magic and gravity will slowly return to normal, but for the duration of the pregnancy they won't be the same two days in a row."  
  
She stood and gestured for Harry to follow her. He slipped off the bed, pulling his robes closed as he padded after the matron. She stepped into her office and returned carrying a pamphlet, which she handed to Harry.  
  
"I keep these on hand to give to girls who find themselves in this condition. I'm not sure how much of an aid it will be to you: you're only the second male pregnancy I've overseen. I'll revise what I know this evening."  
  
Harry looked down at the parchment pamphlet in his hand. It was - unsurprisingly - about pregnancy. Harry gulped. Suddenly it seemed very real. A hand settled in his shoulder and he looked up. The matron's face was understanding.  
  
"It is a lot to take in, Harry and I won't try to fool you: the pregnancy can be dangerous. I hope you understand that you won't be flying anytime soon, nor do I want you going for your apparition license until after you've safely given birth........"  
  
Madam Pomfery's voice had turned strict and Harry hastily nodded, "I've already told Ron that I won't be playing Quidditch this year. I even gave up being Head Boy because I didn't want to be too stressed........"  
  
Madam Pomfery nodded and smiled grimly, "Good. You keep a sensible attitude like that, and you and your baby will have nothing to worry about," The hand dropped from Harry's shoulder, "Now, you will come in once a fortnight for a routine check-up. Mind what you do in Potions and Transfiguration. No ingesting potions and no transfiguring yourself. If you feel at all ill, I want you to come to me. Aside from that, I think you are sensible enough to know what and what not to do."  
  
Harry smiled, "Thank you, Madam Pomfery."  
  
He turned and headed around the corner. Harry jumped and stopped abruptly. Someone had been standing just out of sight around the corner.  
  
"You're pregnant?"  
  
"Dean! How long have you been standing there?"  
  
Dean Thomas had been Harry's first boyfriend and was now his closest gay friend. His only gay friend for that matter. There weren't that many gay students at Hogwarts and Harry's break-ups with Terry Boot and Jeremy Kent, a Hufflepuff in his year, hadn't been very amicable. But his relationship with Dean had been more about mutual exploration than anything and it hadn't turned sour after they'd split up. Harry appreciated that. While Ron, Hermione, Draco and Blaise had always been understanding, it wasn't quite the same thing as having someone who knew what it was like to be gay.  
  
Harry had been considering telling Dean about his pregnancy, but not quite like this........  
  
"Long enough to hear Madam Pomfery say that you're pregnant."  
  
Harry sighed and sagged a little, "Yeah, I am. I thought a month, but Madam Pomfery said six weeks."  
  
Harry glanced up at his friend from beneath his eyelashes. The other boy was looking rather shocked.  
  
"Listen, Dean, you can't tell anybody, okay? I don't want people to know yet."  
  
Dean blinked, "What about Ron and Hermione?"  
  
"They already know and so do Blaise and Draco."  
  
Dean grimaced. As close as Harry, Ron and Hermione had become to Draco and Blaise, the other Gryffindor really only tolerated the pair, and that was mostly for their housemates' sakes.  
  
"Please Dean? They'll find out soon enough, but I want to keep it a secret for as long as possible."  
  
Dean blinked again, "Sure thing Harry. I won't tell," he grinned fiendishly, "On one condition: you gotta tell me who the father is. Do I know him?"  
  
Harry laughed and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder, leading him to the door, "I doubt it. His name's Jason Phillips. He's a muggle."  
  
Dean started, "A *muggle*?"  
  
Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd get the same reaction from everyone, "Yes, Dean, a muggle. Hey, what were you doing in the hospital wing anyway?"  
  
"Oh," Dean rolled his shoulders, "Seamus ate too much at the Sorting feast and I came up here to see if I could get him a stomach potion. He can suffer; it'll serve him right. I want to hear more about this Phillips guy."  
  
TBC  
  
AN: There. That chapter served less of a purpose than I had intended it to. But all in all, I don't think its a bad chapter. What do you think? Visit my friend, the blue button and tell him and me what you think. My Muses take inspiration from your responses. *glomps all readers* 


	4. Chapter Four

AN: well, this isn't the story I wanted to be up-dating, but beggars can't be choosers too. And right now, my Muses are *really* making me beg.  
  
Disclaimer: I dream every fanfic author's favourite dream: that she actually *owned* these characters. Than I wake up and realise that it isn't true.  
  
Reviews (or the responses to):  
  
Lady FoxFire: both good guesses, but........ you'll have to wait and see ^_~  
  
Nabiki: I don't think Harry would like someone hovering over him like that, but, rest assured, his friends will be looking out for him.  
  
LadyAlyce: *glomps* *trembles in her boots* Yes, oh toga-wearing one! I will write more. Awww, who could resist puppy-dog eyes like those? I'll see what I can do.  
  
Teigra: *grins* maybe I could just sick you onto this poor hapless muggle? It sounds like you'd have a think or two to say to him about abandoning Harry. As will Hermione, Ron, Blaise and Draco when they catch up with him.  
  
frizzy: thank you for your wonderful review. I can't seem to help giving people that impression about Sev. *mystic look* All will be explained.  
  
npetrenko: Thanks. The being is important to the rest of the story, don't you think?  
  
louise: Thank you for the compliments. As for your suspicions, I love cultivating a good conspiracy, so I'm afraid you won't get any straight answers out of me. I hope to explain about the whole '*muggle*' thing next chapter, okay? =P  
  
kapies: Heh. Okay. Well, I did mention that this chapter wasn't really about action, more about explanation. Unfortunately, I'm afraid you'll find this chapter much the same. It has to be done tho, I have to establish my story. I hope you like it better.  
  
Fair Lady Ravenclaw: I'm on your favourites list? Thank you! I'll read your stories soon. I like the idea of Harry being a father as well. What a warped pair we are. ^_^ There'll be more about both Jason and Snape as we go along, but not quite yet.  
  
Antia: *grins* Thank you so much for re-doing your review. I really love it. Oh, I SO want to hear you theories about Sev's involvement. It could even give me inspiration! *snickers* But. I have a very definite idea of what Snape has to do with the whole situation, and I'm stubborn and I'm sticking to it, come hell, or poor reviews. Let's see if I can't respond to all the points you raised. Dean: I wanted to give Harry a friend that wouldn't be distracted by a significant other, someone who understood what it was to be gay........ My so-called 'subtlety': I'm very very VERY flattered that you compared me to JKR. Although, I'm not sure if I want people reading my story literally - taking it at face value - or reading things into it......... eh. The 'muggle' thing: will be explained. The treating Harry as normal: I hope you like what I've done to him this chapter. Okay, I think I've blathered on enough for now....... *sheepish grin*  
  
SlytherinAtHeart: Just for you, I've amended my closing statement. ^_^  
  
Saavik: I like twists. Twists are fun. And I'm always looking for twists too. We'll be hearing more about Jason as the pregnancy progresses.......  
  
Ayame: *glomps* Happy Birthday for tomorrow! Ahem. To your review: I hope this chapter will start to clear up that problem we where talking about. If it doesn't and you have any suggestions, I'd be abjectly grateful to hear them. And what's Draco done to Harry now? ^_^  
  
venus4280: *takes the insinuation as a gift* why thank you! *L* Seriously, thank you. Thinking about it now, you might be right about that. *G* I was actually quite proud of the gravity/magic thing. Thank you for mentioning it. Oh, it'll drawn out all right.  
  
* * * * * * * I've decided to dedicate this chapter to me three friends: Anita (Insane1), Ayame (Tiger of the Fire) and LadyAlyce.  
  
Ayame, because it's her birthday tomorrow. Happy Birthday!  
  
Anita, because she gives the best reviews.  
  
Alyce, because she was my first internet slash-lover friend.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Chapter Four.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Dawn the next day found Harry getting re-acquainted with the toilet bowl.  
  
Just as the first pale-pink rays of sunlight were stroking the sky outside, the churning of his stomach had woken him and sent him barrelling to the bathroom. When he had emptied his stomach of its entire contents and was reduced to dry retching, he collapsed against the wall of the cubicle, too wretched to even wipe the sweat from his brow or the spit from his lips. That was how Neville Longbottom found him half an hour later.  
  
"Harry? Are you alright?"  
  
Harry started at the voice behind him and twisted around to face the other boy.  
  
"Hi Neville," Harry gave him a tired grin, "What're you doing up so early?"  
  
Neville leant Harry a hand and hauled him to his feet. Over the years, Neville had shed his puppy-fat and timidness, and grown into a quietly reserved young man; albeit one who was still an abysmal failure when it came to potions.  
  
Once Harry was standing on his own two feet, Neville dropped his hand and shrugged, "I was thirsty," he said, gesturing idly towards the sink where sat a tray of drinking glasses. He peered into Harry's still wan face, "Are you okay?"  
  
Harry grimaced, "I've been better."  
  
Harry grabbed one of the glasses from the sink and filled it with water. He swilled the first mouthful about his mouth and spat it out, removing the taste of bile from his tongue. Only when the taste was completely gone did he allow a fresh mouthful of water to slide soothingly down his burnt throat.  
  
Neville was watching him, cradling his own glass of water in his hand, a concerned light in his eyes. Harry smiled reassuringly, "Just a stomach bug - a summer flu. It'll be gone in no time, I'm sure."  
  
Neville downed the rest of his water and set the glass aside, "Maybe you should get a anti-nausea potion off Madam Pomfery. It always helps with my air-sickness........"  
  
Harry turned back to the sink and splashed cold water over his face and neck. Of course that would be the one thing both he and Madam Pomfery forgot about. And he should have known better. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd woken to morning sickness.  
  
"Yeah, thanks Neville. I'll probably do that before breakfast today," Harry replied, fighting down his nausea at the mere mention of the morning meal.  
  
"Yeah," said Neville absently as he headed back into the dorm, "they usually serve kippers the first day back."  
  
Harry groaned and grabbed his toothbrush, attacking his teeth with the soothing minty taste of the toothpaste.  
  
* * * * * * *  
By the time Harry had detoured to the Infirmary to collect a morning sickness potion and endured Madam Pomfery's impromptu lecture on not getting one the night before, Neville and the rest of the seventh year Gryffindors were at the table in the Great Hall, looking - Harry thought - much to cheerful for the first day back at school. He slipped into a seat between Ron and Dean and reached for the nearest jug of pumpkin juice. Even with the potion, he couldn't bear the thought of kippers or the bacon Ron was gleefully piling onto his plate.  
  
As Harry spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate, he looked up and caught the eye of Hermione, sitting opposite. His best friend was watching him steadily, her knife and fork arrested in the motion of fastidiously cutting her toast into bite-sized pieces. Harry raised a black brow at her.  
  
"Neville said you were sick this morning," she stated bluntly. On either side of him, Dean and Ron paused to hear his answer.  
  
Harry shrugged and reached for a piece of toast, "It was nothing a short visit to Pomfery couldn't give me the cure to."  
  
"You've been sick like this before?" Dean voiced to concern of the three of them and earned himself guarded looks from both Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Yeah, a couple of times," Harry shrugged again and looked at Ron and Hermione, still eyeing Dean, "He knows. He found out last night."  
  
Harry's two best friends looked between him and Dean for a moment before nodding their acceptance. The evening before, Harry hadn't had the chance to tell Ron and Hermione that Dean now knew that he was pregnant; when they'd reached the common-room, they had been greeted by the chaos of nervous first years and overly-exuberant older students. Nor had Harry had much of a chance to talk to Dean on their trip back from the hospital wing; the halls had been crawling with people: Snape striding past as they climbed the stairs, Filch and his cat peering suspiciously at all passers- by, a trio of lost first years, a harried looking prefect from Hufflepuff.........  
  
Harry could tell that Ron, Hermione and Dean were dying to ask him all sorts of questions, but the Gryffindor table wasn't the place for it, so they held their tongues on the topic. Instead, they began to study the class schedules that were being handed around.  
  
"We don't have Potions until Wednesday afternoon........ And then again on Friday afternoon. What a way to end the week!"  
  
"Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins again."  
  
"Does that surprise you? History of Magic is with the Ravenclaws. That'll be fun."  
  
"Maybe you three will actually pay attention for once. Oh no!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I have Arithmancy with the Slytherins."  
  
"Isn't that a good thing?"  
  
"No! Draco always tries to distract me."  
  
"I bet he succeeds too."  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"What? We have Divination first thing this morning. I wonder how you're going to die this year, Harry."  
  
"Honestly, I don't know why you still take that class."  
  
"Because it's easier than Arithmancy or Ancient Runes?"  
  
"You know perfectly well that Trelawney's a fraud!"  
  
"What's that got to do with an-"  
  
Fortunately, the owls arrived with the morning post at that point, cutting off the impending argument between Ron and Hermione. Harry scanned the birds hopefully, looking for the white plumage of his Hedwig. He hadn't been in contact with Sirius all summer and thought maybe there'd be a letter for him this morning. But Hedwig wasn't among the owls that swooped low over the Gryffindor table: Hermione received her copy of the 'Daily Prophet', Ron got a letter from his brother Charlie in Romania and a barn owl dropped the latest edition of 'Which Broomstick?' in Dean's sausages, but there was no mail for Harry.  
  
Harry shrugged it off, resolving to write a letter to Sirius that evening; he'd have to tell his godfather that he was pregnant sooner or later anyway. Instead, he peered over Dean's shoulder as the boy thumbed through his magazine, drooling over the latest Nimbus-class racing broomstick. He listened with half an ear to Ron as the redhead related the news from the Romania dragon-colony.  
  
"-Norbert's a daddy! His mate's clutch hatched two days ago. Charlie says to tell Hagrid that he's welcome to visit them whenever he wants -"  
  
Harry grunted absently in response and was about to ask Dean to go back a page to the article on Silver Arrows when Hermione piped up.  
  
"Hey listen to this:  
  
" 'This summer past, the ancient castle of Tintagel welcomed a new master. Long held by the noble wizarding line of the Dellits, that name died with the last female heir, Europa. Deceased five years, Europa was the wife of the late noted wizard-Doctor, Egelbert Swefling. Dr. Swefling and Mrs. Europa Swefling both died without issue, and the historic estate now passes to Dr. Swefling's heir, the son of his younger sister: Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, aged 36. Dr Swefling died peacefully in his sleep on 13th July, this year at the age of 94.  
  
'As executor and primary beneficiary of his uncle's will, Professor Snape saw fit to keep the death of his uncle from the public knowledge until just yesterday evening, when he called a brief press-conference at his new home. The Potions Master let it be known that he had spent the weeks since his uncle's death in the execution of Dr. Swefling's Last Will and Testament.........' "  
  
Hermione trialed off at that point and looked up Ron, Harry and Dean, "Snape owns Tintagel!"  
  
Harry blinked, "Isn't that the castle that King Arthur was supposed to have been born in?"  
  
Hermione nodded eagerly.  
  
"I thought that place was in ruins," said Dean, "My parents took me there when I was nine; I remember it."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes, "It probably has an anti-muggle charm on it. Although -" she paused and tilted her head, "- I wondered how it is that muggles can still visit the 'ruins'?"  
  
She shook her head and shrugged, "Who would have thought someone like Snape would inherit Tintagel Castle, though!"  
  
Ron snorted and made a derogatory comment that Harry only half registered. He was remembering the conversation he'd overheard between Snape and Dumbledore the evening before. Snape was lord and master of the birthplace of the legendary King Arthur? Well judging by what he'd heard last night, he didn't seem too enthusiastic about the idea. Harry had just opened his mouth to tell the others what he'd overheard when a voice behind him interrupted.  
  
"Mr Potter."  
  
Harry turned in his seat and looked up at his head of house.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and looked at him over the top of her wire-framed glasses, "If you are finished with your meal," - she nodded at the rearranged mess Harry had made of his food - "I would like to speak with you. Privately."  
  
Three guesses what this would be about. Harry nodded and stood up.  
  
"See you in Divinations," he muttered to Ron and Dean, "Bye Hermione. See you at lunch."  
  
He followed Professor McGonagall out of the Great Hall and up the stairs, to her office by the Transfiguration classroom. She closed the door behind him and gestured him to a seat as she rounded her desk to take her own.  
  
Harry glanced superstitiously around the office. In all the years he'd been at Hogwarts, McGonagall's office hadn't noticeably changed. There was a bookcase on one wall, the same number of books stacked precisely in what Harry has no doubt was first subject, then alphabetical order. The desk was placed in the exact centre of the room and the two chairs facing it were always precisely offset from it. The desk top was bare expect for a tray of neatly stacked scrolls, an inkwell, two quills and pristine blotter. Harry had no idea how she stood it, year after year in the same room.  
  
His straying attention was brought back to the woman behind the desk when she cleared her throat.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore has told me about your........ condition," McGonagall didn't look quite sure of how to address the issue, which, strangely enough, actually reassured Harry. It made him realise that he was actually dealing with a human being here, not a machine designed for efficiency and exactitude. Sometimes it seemed too easy to forget that with Professor McGonagall.  
  
Harry smiled gently and rested a hand on his abdomen, "My pregnancy."  
  
"Yes," the professor's expression softened minutely, "your pregnancy.  
  
"Now, I assume you don't wish the students to know just yet?" Harry nodded silently and McGonagall continued, "Naturally, the staff has been informed, but that was necessary to ensure you were not made to do anything potentially harmful to your child."  
  
Harry groaned silently and closed his eyes. He had expected Dumbledore to tell the other Professors, but still........ Snape would have a field day with this - covert allusions and pointed digs........ And Trelawney! Harry could see her now: predicting dire fortunes for all his offspring for generations to come. Even Hagrid would be treating him differently now - with the kindest of intentions, the half-giant would be hovering over him in class, Harry knew this without a doubt.  
  
Harry sighed. There wasn't anything he could about it, however. He opened his eyes again. Professor McGonagall was watching him with an understanding look in her eyes. But instead of commenting like Harry half expected her to do, she continued.  
  
"You will remain in the Gryffindor dorms. Madam Pomfery said there was no real need for you to be given a private room and since you turned down the position of Head Boy -" Harry couldn't help feeling she was a little disappointed about that; not that Harry had turned it down, but that now it was unlikely that both Head Girl and Boy would be drawn from Gryffindor and she wouldn't be able to stick it in Snape's face - "the boys' dormitory is where you belong. Of course, as you draw close to term, you will probably be moved into a room closer to the Infirmary."  
  
Harry was a little disappointed that he wouldn't be getting a room of his own, but at least he wouldn't have to come up with an explanation for the apparent favouritism.  
  
"You may wish to visit Professor Flitwick at some point this week. I believe he mentioned something about concealing charms that would come in handy," McGonagall smiled at Harry and he smiled back. That was one less thing to worry about as his pregnancy progressed.  
  
A short silence enveloped the pair. Professor McGonagall glanced at the clock.  
  
"You'd best be off to class now."  
  
Harry nodded and stood up.  
  
"Thank you, Professor," he said, not quite sure what he was thanking her for, and turned to go.  
  
Professor McGonagall's voice stopped just as he reached the door.  
  
"One thing, Mr Potter........" Harry turned back to face her, "Dumbledore said........ a muggle?"  
  
That was it. He was going to the library this evening. He wanted to know why people were continually surprised that the father of his child was a muggle.  
  
To Professor McGonagall he said, "Yes. Jason Phillips."  
  
The Head of Gryffindor blinked and said, "Hmm."  
  
Harry barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes as he turned away again.  
  
He was definitely visiting the library tonight.  
  
And he'd ask Hermione to come to.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
TBC  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------  
  
AN: Again, not the most eventful chapter, but it's build up. It should get better after this. I hope. =D  
  
I have been informed that the review button isn't blue, it's purple. Press it anyway? 


	5. Chapter Five

AN: So here it is, at long last. So so so sorry for making you all wait so long for it.  
  
First thing's first: Thank you to Ayame and Rachael for your help. Having someone else read my explanations of the pregnancy before I published it really helped. *glomps them both*  
  
Second thing's second: My reviewers, thank you all so much for your reviews. There's a few of them to answer, so bear with me:  
  
Lady FoxFire: Sorry for making you wait so long. I can't say it wasn't avoidable, but...  
  
frizzy: Who ever said that the father had to be a wizard? Did I say that? ^_~ (and you can read that wink anyway you like...)  
  
kapies: was a little boring, wasn't it? Thank you for reviewing anyway. It means a lot to me.  
  
npetrenko: *grins* you couldn't stop me if you tried.  
  
ohinvertedworld: I do have ideas that I'm building up to, and they will come out as I go along. Especially after this chapter. lol, I have to say I'm glad you can't tell where this story is going just yet. May I suggest you sit back and enjoy the ride?  
  
Saavik: Divine conception? Not quite.  
  
xikum: No... I don't imagine Harry's secret will be kept long with Hagrid knowing... Even if he does always mean well. About the King Arthur thing: remember, Snape is only the heir to the castle, not the blood line. Make of it what you will, for now. Methinks you'll have a field day with the implications in this chapter.  
  
Teigra: I don't think you're the only one that would like to get Jason alone. And yes, McGonagall does seem to recognize the name, doesn't she? I wonder what that's about. ^_~ Thank you for coming all the way over here to review my story and add me to your favourites list. I will be posting this at ~harrypottermpreg~ - naturally.  
  
harrylovar: LOL, it's okay to rush me a bit. I really do need the incentive.  
  
Pixie_Genius: Thank you for your praise. There's a little more background info here, but the rest will come out as we go along... That's just the way this story has to be written, unfortunately. *L* You're not the first to speculate on whether or not Snape is the father, the first to suggest polyjuice, tho'.  
  
blah: Lil' ole me's got you hooked on Harry Potter fanfic? *grins evilly* Welcome to the world of HP fandom!  
  
M. F. Luder: Remember you? How could I forget you? *glomps* Tell you if you're wrong? Does that mean I don't have to tell you if you're right? Let's just say that you're kinda half right. ^_~  
  
SilverWolf: *sighs with* I love Sevvy too! And what do you mean? Was Sev the result of the pregnancy? No, he had a mother. And if I didn't know that you liked it before, I do now!  
  
sev1970: *grins* Loving your story, by the way. As for your theory, I have to say... well, actually, I don't have to say anything at all ^_~  
  
Anita (Insane1): Okay, I'm so writing you an email.  
  
Toffee: Sure, I'll email you. Of course, you should have gotten the email, by the time you see this...  
  
SlytherinAtHeart: *growls* Weren't you the one that told me it was purple in the first place? *taps foot* ^_^  
  
PeachDancer82: ...? Last time I looked, father started with an 'F'.... hehehe, not going to answer your question, except to say, Jason *is* the father.  
  
lunar_scythe: In this story (and in the books) Blaise is a girl. Either that, or Ron is very confused. It DOESN'T actually say anywhere in the books that Blaise is a girl, but according to JKR, she is. Check out the list of characters on mugglenet.com. Personally, I prefer to think that Blaise is male.  
  
Potter-Snape: Thank you, and sorry I kept you waiting for so long.  
  
Dreams of Magic: Hehe, I like shocking people.  
  
InKY: Nope, don't think Harry will be seeing his relatives again. I mean, he didn't spend the summer with them, and this IS his last year at Hogwarts.  
  
Vita Brevis: Continuing... Finally! Someone that accepts the fact that the father is a muggle! I don't think Harry will be getting back with Jason, tho' we may see him. I don't know that I really want to pair Harry up with anyone other than the father tho, so you never know...  
  
blue: *glomps* thank you! I think there's lots more to be written...  
  
RogueAngel: Why thank you for pressing the button. I think the button thanks you too. ( I love mpregs too, for the same unknown reason. And yes, I am still setting the story up.  
  
*kicks the chapter* The explanation all had to be done at some point...  
  
Chapter Five.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
The library wasn't as empty as it usually was on the evening of the first day of school. A group of seventh year students had taken over reading table in the farthermost corner. Open books were scattered over the table, and all six of the students were poring over them. Every now and then, one of them would look up, scanning the vicinity for any potential eavesdroppers.  
  
Harry had only intended that Hermione accompany him to the library, but when the others - namely Draco, who then told Blaise, who told Ron, who mentioned it in the presence of Dean - had found out, they had all decided to come as well. They were - naturally - researching male pregnancies. For all that the phenomenon wasn't that uncommon, there didn't seem to be a great number of texts that dealt with the subject in any real depth. Only a passage here, a paragraph there, a passing reference in a third place.  
  
Muttering under his breath, Harry read a passage detailing the exact same information he'd read in three other places already: "'The phenomenon of the male pregnancy is peculiar to the humanoid magical races: wizards, Fae, Veela, Selkies, Giants; even Vampires, Werewolves and Trolls. -' ugh, trolls! 'The males of none of these species are designed -' Designed? They make it sound like we're mannequins. '- to bear young. It cannot be conclusively said what causes male pregnancy, but it has long been a commonly held belief that there are a range of contributing factors; the most notable being the desire - whether conscious or unconscious - on the behalf of the bearing parent to father a child, and the ambient magic.  
  
"'A womb-like sack forms in the abdomen of the male to support the embryo in the initial stages of the pregnancy. As the pregnancy progresses, a slide-slipped sub-reality forms, in which the child exists and develops, thus ensuring that the male body - unsuited as it is to pregnancy - is not damaged by the expanding fetal sack. The sub-reality is anchored in the bearing parent's body and manifests as a distension of the abdomen.'" Harry's hand had drifted to his stomach and was gently kneading as he contemplated the changes that would be occurring within him, "Oh god, why didn't Madam Pomfery tell me any of this? 'Because the sub-reality is not completely displaced from our dimension, the bearing parent still enjoys -' Enjoys? Yeah, right. '- all the physical manifestations of pregnancy that a female would; the only visible difference being that male pregnancy only appears to develop to mid second trimester, after which point the distension of the abdomen is arrested. The male body is not designed to support pregnancy -' I know this already! '- and because of this, the risks already inherent in a normal pregnancy are increased twenty-fold.  
  
"'At term, the fetal sub-reality is realigned with our own dimension, causing the rapid distension of the abdomen. A birth canal forms in the lower abdomen and contractions begin. The average labour time in a male pregnancy is between nine and thirteen hours, sometimes ranging as low as three or as high as thirty-two. There is no umbilical cord or after-birth as, in the fetal sub-reality, the child gains sustenance through a magical conduit to its birth parent. Within twenty-four hours of the delivery, the birth canal closes and the fetal sub-reality dissipates.'"  
  
Harry pushed the book away from him, his expression dismayed. Beside him, Dean snickered.  
  
"What are you laughing at?" Harry glared, "This could happen to you one day."  
  
Dean stopped laughing, and Draco and Ron started. Until their girlfriends swatted them. Harry sighed and pressed his palm to his abdomen, "I don't think I want to be pregnant any more."  
  
Hermione gasped, "Harry! You don't mean that!"  
  
"Of course I don't!" Harry exclaimed indignantly and then sighed, "But this book is useless any way. I still don't really know how I got pregnant in the first place."  
  
"You wanted to be," Dean stated simplistically.  
  
Blaise frowned, "You must really have loved this Jason if you wanted to have his child."  
  
"Yeah," Harry muttered, flinching a little.  
  
Blaise gasped, "Oh, Harry! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up."  
  
Harry gave her a small smile, "It's okay, Blaise. I told you guys you didn't have to tiptoe around the topic, and I meant it."  
  
There was a small, uncomfortable silence among Harry's friends, before Hermione pulled the book towards her.  
  
"It said something about 'ambient magic'. The other books I've looked at mentioned that as well, but none of them say what it means."  
  
Hermione swapped that book for another. The tome she selected had been found by Draco far to the back of a dusty top shelf in the corner of the library closest to the Restricted Section. It was entitled 'Unguided Magics' and, according to the dated first page, was over five hundred years old. Hermione gently blew away the dust that had settled on the cover - sending Dean and Draco into sneezing fits - and gingerly opened the book to its page of contents. Her finger not even touching the page, she skimmed down the faded, ornately-lettered words, searching for something of relevance. Reaching the bottom of the list, she started from the top again, leaning closer and barely breathing.  
  
Harry snorted, "If you're as careful with babies as you are with books, you can baby-sit mine any day."  
  
Draco laughed and Hermione glared at him.  
  
"What! I wasn't the one who said it!"  
  
Harry smirked. Draco raised an eyebrow at him and turned back to his girlfriend. She was already bent over the book again, a frown marring her brow. She paused over an entry in the list, then carefully flipped to the page indicated by the faint text.  
  
"Oh," she cried, letting her hands fall into her lap, "It's no use. This page can't be read!"  
  
The text on the page she opened the book to was smaller, fainter and - if possible - more obscurely scripted than on the contents page.  
  
"Here, let me try something," Draco gently dragged the book over in front himself and drew his wand, "*Scriptura* *investigo*!"  
  
There was a sudden glow of white light, and Hermione screamed softly, "Draco! What have you done!"  
  
"Nothing bad, Hermione. Look," Draco gestured at the old book.  
  
Hovering not an inch above the surface of the page was plane of light. As the group watched, it began to duplicate the page below it into legible writing, altering the old English to modern as it went.  
  
Hermione gaped admiringly, "Where'd you get that spell, Draco?"  
  
"Our librarian taught it to me," Draco shrugged.  
  
"You have a librarian?"  
  
"Well, considering our library is only a little smaller than this one..."  
  
Hermione went all starry-eyed at the thought of her boyfriend's family library. After a moment, Ron kicked her under the table.  
  
"We can't read upside down, Hermione, so either pass us the book or quit daydreaming and read it to us!"  
  
Hermione glared at her best friend and reached down to rub her shin, "If you left a bruise, Ron Weasley..."  
  
The threat trailed off as she retrieved the book from Draco, "This book is really old, so I don't know how much use the information will be to us."  
  
Hermione cleared her throat and began to read, "'Not one hundred years ago, the incidents of male pregnancy were as high as one of every three hundred children born, higher among the Veela and Fae. But since the fall of King Arthur, one hundred and eighty-six years ago, and the disappearance of the last Wizard Merlin, the free magic of the world has been on the decline, and with it, the number of pregnancies resulting of male coupling. In recent years, as few as only one in five hundred children are the result of male pregnancy. As the child of such a union myself, I feel it is my duty to record and document this decrease.  
  
"'As my elder father, a Fae lord of some note, explained it to me, so shall I endeavour to put into words here, the exact causes and circumstances that allow this most miraculous of events to occur.  
  
"'Magic, like water, has the tendency to flow together, finding the path of least resistance. If left to itself, the magic of the world would run together and pool, forming ley lines and nodes of power. In an era now lost to the mists of time, magic was allowed to do as it willed and pool and flow, forming places richly steeped in power. Evil magicians sought to control and exploit these nodes of power to their own dark ends. There came to pass a war to change the course of history. In the wake of the cataclysmic end to that war, the leaders of the races came to together and created a unique power: the ability to change the nature of magic, to cause it spread evenly over the lands, were it once preferred to pool together. The races instilled this new power into a line of wizard-kind, charging them with the guardianship and fair distribution of the world's magic. And thus was the line of Merlin born.  
  
"'For centuries beyond counting, the magic of the world spread over the lands like a heavy mist, evenly dispersed. The line of Merlin served the magic-using races well. The heavy mist of power was known as 'free' or 'ambient' magic. Under its weight, nature bent in ways it normally would not have. The line between what was possible and what was not was blurred and mutable. For those races with the ability to access the ambient magic, anything they could dream of, they could do, if they desired truly enough. Thus it was that a male being of magical nature, if his heart so desired, could bear a child.  
  
"But when the last Wizard Merlin disappeared, his control of the magic of the world disappeared too. It began to change, began to resume its ancient form of ley lines and nodes. In the century and a half since Merlin left, nodes have begun to reappear and the ambient magic has decreased, as have the incidents of male pregnancy along with it. During my studies in the decades since, I have noticed an ebb and flow of magic, like the tides of the ocean. At certain times, under certain circumstances, the ambient magic of the world is almost as strong as it was during the times of the Merlin. And it is during these peak times that the majority of male pregnancies of recent years have been conceived.  
  
"'It is the commonly shared belief of the wizards that have observed the ebb and flow of the magic that this is a remnant of the Merlin's power attempting to exert control over the nodal magic. The nature of the magic is forced to change again, and spread. At these times, the ambient magic in the world surges stronger and inadvertent magic occurs, and because of the perverted nature of the magic, it tends to pervert the natural world; allowing fish to fly, water to run uphill, fire to burn cold - and magical males to fall pregnant.  
  
"'This re-spread of magic, known as the Merlin Effect, has been linked to phenomena of the natural world. It fluctuates in sync with the tides, the cycles of the moon, the cycles of the sun, the cycle of the seasons. The more infrequent the occurrence, the stronger the surge of ambient magic in the world. For example, the surge of the tides comes twice a day, and is not overly strong. The surge of the sun comes once a day, and is half again as strong as the surge of the tides. Ambient magic is strongest in the world at dawn or dusk of the first full moon after the summer equinox. A male-male copulation at such a time is likely to produce a pregnancy, as only one need have the magic and harbour the desire. Contrary to widespread belief, the pregnancy has little - if anything - to do with the magic of the second father; only a little of his life essence - his ejaculate - is required...'"  
  
"Oh, I really didn't need to hear that."  
  
"Ron!" Blaise slapped Ron's arm, as the other boys snorted with laughter, Dean and Harry especially. Blaise stared them all into silence. She turned away muttering something about "moronic specimens, wired directly to their libido..."  
  
Ron grinned at her, "You weren't complaining last night when I-"  
  
Blaise snapped back around, "Ronald Weasley, if you say another word, you'll be looking to Hagrid's menagerie for the next month."  
  
Ron spluttered, "You wouldn't!"  
  
Harry and Draco snickered at the look on their friend's face when Blaise raised an eyebrow, her expression clearly inviting Ron to try her."  
  
Ron muttered mutinously and turned to Hermione, changing the subject, "What else does it say, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione had ignored the by-play between her friends and instead had turned the page and recast Draco's spell on it. She was frowning down at the page, a look of vague disappointment in her eyes.  
  
"It doesn't say anything more really. All it is now is a record of the pregnancies and births this wizard witnessed. It documents the time, place and conditions of the conception and follows the course of the pregnancy through to the birth. There's all sorts of..."  
  
Harry tuned out Hermione's voice. So it was just a cosmic mistake that he was pregnant. He and Jason had simply made lo- had sex at the wrong time, and because Harry had always harboured a deep-seated desire to have a family all of his own, this 'ambient magic' had perverted the course of nature and gifted the pair with a miracle that only Harry wanted.  
  
Harry had all but given up hope of having a child of his own flesh and blood; he was gay and that meant that there was little chance of his own child. So when he had realized that, against all odds, against all reason to the universe, he was pregnant, he had been ecstatic and no little terrified. The impossible had happened, and he didn't know how to handle it. For a week, he had turned into a recluse and there had been nothing Jason could do to get him to talk about what was troubling him so.  
  
Harry had spent the days worrying about his abnormal pregnancy, his unborn child's safety, his lover's reaction, *Voldemort's* reaction if Harry's luck was bad enough that he found out. He spent the nights dreaming of what could be. He'd long since told Jason he was a wizard and, if the other man had at first been wary and dubious, he'd soon come to accept the fact that he need never feel overshadowed by it when Harry had made it clear that he would like nothing more than to have most of the wizarding world forget he was ever born. Harry began to weave dreams of he and Jason buying a cottage somewhere and raising their child together in a loving household that incorporated both worlds. He even considered the far-fetched possibility of a second child. It was wonderful to contemplate such a life with the man he loved - and he was sure he did - and their miracle child. Harry allowed the optimism of the dream to overtake him.  
  
Until he got up the courage to tell Jason. Who - to say the least - reacted badly. Harry had gotten so lost in his dream and already loved his unborn child so much that he could barely conceive anymore of a reaction counter to his own. He had certainly never dreamt that Jason would reject their child of hand. He'd never once considered that maybe he felt more strongly for Jason than Jason felt for him. That illusion had been quickly dispelled. He could still hear Jason's voice echoing in his ears:  
  
~ It was never meant to last! We were both meant to go back to school at the end of summer and forget it ever happened! ~  
  
It had hurt to hear him say that. Hurt more than anything anyone had ever said to Harry did. But nothing - *nothing* - had, or ever could, compare to Jason's next words.  
  
~ Terminate it. ~  
  
Terminate. It. Like he was suggesting they rid themselves of an annoyance. Like it wasn't his own child he was suggesting Harry abort. Like he couldn't care less...  
  
"*Harry*," Hermione said insistently for the third time, and Harry looked up at her. She and Blaise were staring at him, strange expressions on their faces. Ron, Dean and Draco were squabbling over something, their voices washing acidly at the edges of Harry's attention.  
  
"Harry," Hermione reapeated, her voice soft with concern, "Are you alright?"  
  
Harry blinked, and absently answered, "Yes. Why?"  
  
Blaise gestured at his hands, "We were just wondering why you saw fit to snap your quill in half."  
  
Harry looked down at his hands. The mangled ruins of his favourite quill drooped from his white-knuckled fists, and the red ink with which it had been inked dripped sluggishly from the base of his left hand. Harry watched in morbid fascination as another fat drop splattered on the table beneath him. He wondered if he would have bleed so red and viscous if he'd taken Jason's suggestion about the baby and -  
  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Blaise laid a hand on Harry's forearm.  
  
Terminate. It.  
  
Harry flinched away from Blaise's hand and stood up.  
  
"I'm sorry. I gotta go."  
  
Harry didn't even bother to pick up his books as he moved away from the table. He knew Hermione would take them back to the Tower with her.  
  
Harry pulled up short, just in time to avoid running into the menacing figure of Professor Snape as he stalked over to the table in the corner.  
  
"Leaving your friends to tidy up just so *you* can get back before curfew, Potter? Hardly very Gryffindor of you?"  
  
Harry stared up at the man blankly. He had no idea what time it was. He couldn't quite understand what was being said because of the ringing in his ears. Instead, he held up his dripping left hand and said, "I've got to clean my hand, professor."  
  
Snape flinched back away from the ink-covered hand and his lip curled in a disgusted sneer, "Only you are accident prone enough to injure yourself while studying, Potter. Really, you should-"  
  
Looking down at his hand again, Harry dazedly interrupted, "It's not blood, sir. It's ink."  
  
It really did look amazingly like blood, and Harry wondered for a moment if maybe he hadn't nicked himself with the nib and for some reason he just couldn't feel the pain.  
  
Snape's sneer broadened and he glared over Harry's shoulder to where Blaise and Hermione were desperately trying to remove the ink stain Harry had left on the table.  
  
"25 points from Gryffindor for vandalizing school property, Potter, and be thankful you're not getting a detention as well. Get out of here before you drip all over the books."  
  
Harry nodded and moved past the professor, hurrying across the floor to the door. His ears ere still ringing and he could still hear Jason's voice.  
  
~ It was never meant to last! ~  
  
~ Forget it ever happened! ~  
  
~ Terminate it! ~  
  
Harry hadn't realized that seeing red was more than just an expression until Jason had said those words. But he'd seen red: his vision had tinged over until everything that should have been white was a blood red. Like Jason's face. The skin that had turned milky pale when Harry had first told him was crimson, and every time he opened his mouth, Harry had seen flashes of gleaming red teeth.  
  
He had never been so mad, so enraged, so incensed, so *angry* as when Jason almost blithely suggested he kill his child simply because it 'wasn't meant to last'. Harry was that if Voldemort had shown his face at that moment, he would have been ashes before he could register there was a muggle in the room.  
  
Harry had never hated anyone as much as he had hated Jason in that moment.  
  
And the bugger of it all was: he still loved Jason.  
  
TBC  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
AN: *dances around the room, in the street, on the roof top* I finished it! I actually finished it! I'm so sorry that it's taken this long to get out, but here it is now. Feel free to click on that little button you all know and love so well and tell me what a git I am for leaving you all hanging for so long...  
  
And, I know! I haven't made the whole muggle father thing very clear here, and I really should, but I can't seem to make that thing work for me.... *kicks stupid plot device* 


	6. Chapter Six

AN: Okay, I know I've allowed this story to languish for an unforgivably long time, and I'm sorry about that. The only explanation I can offer you is that I've had an awful case of writer's block which I'm only just now getting over.  
  
I'm not going to reply to all the wonderful reviews I got for the last chapter just now. I'll do that in a separate post later on. I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner than I got this one up. Other than that, all I can say is I hope you enjoy.  
  
Oh, and that this chapter is dedicated to Cameron. You know who you are. Or at least, you should. (; *glomps*  
  
Chapter Six  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Halloween both arrived sooner than expected and took a very long time in coming.  
  
Harry had reached the end of his first trimester now and was really starting to show. At least, when he dropped the concealing charms Professor Flitwick had taught him. Hermione and Blaise delighted in nothing more than getting Harry to remove the charms and cooing over the revealed bump. Ron, Draco and Dean rolled their eyes at the two, but whenever the girls weren't looking, they'd superstitiously reach out and let their hands bask in the warmth of Harry's child. Harry himself pretended amused exasperation with his friends. Secretly, though, he was pleased his baby so... awed his friends. It... soothed (however temporarily) the ache in Harry's heart at the thought that the child's other father wanted nothing to do with either of them. At the same time though, it high-lighted the fact that it *wasn't* Jason cooing over their child, and Harry was saddened. It was times like those that time dragged.  
  
Time seemed to have sped however, when Harry paused to reflect on what had transpired in the two short months he'd been back at Hogwarts.  
  
His morning sickness hadn't really abated until the end of September, but with the help of the anti-nausea potion Madam Pomfery supplied him with, he managed to keep it under control. It was still a relief when it had subsided; the potions left almost as bad a taste in his mouth as the bile did. Not to mention that towards the end of that month, Harry had begun to think that Neville suspected something. On more than one occasion, Harry had returned to bed in the early hours of the morning after downing the potion and felt Neville's eyes upon him. But when Harry ceased using the potions, Neville ceased to watch him so closely, and Harry shrugged it off.  
  
Harry had been relieved to discover that Dumbledore had only deemed it necessary for the Heads of House and the latest Defence teacher to know about Harry's condition. That covered the most dangerous subjects anyway: transfiguration, potions and whatever Theses Crete, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, might throw at him. Professor Crete was a retired Unspeakable that had applied for the position when he'd discovered that retirement didn't agree with him.  
  
Charms and History presented Harry with no problem whatsoever. And although the cloying scent of the Divination classroom turned his stomach, that wasn't really anything new. In Herbology, Professor Sprout always subtly directed Harry to a bench safely away from any plants that might be harmful to him.  
  
Harry had been worried about Hagrid hovering over him in Care of Magical Creatures, had he known of Harry's condition, and had felt guiltily relieved when he'd realised Hagrid didn't yet know. It turned out it wouldn't have made a difference either way. Hermione, Ron, Dean, Blaise and Draco had taken it upon themselves to do the hovering in that class anyway. They seemed to think that if one of them weren't nearby to help, Harry would end up hurting his child. *Those* classes began to drag interminably, and Harry quickly resolved to tell Hagrid soon about his pregnancy: it wouldn't change anything about his class.  
  
Half the Gryffindor Quidditch team refused to speak to Harry for a week and a half when he told them he was quitting the team. When they realised Ron, their Captain, and Dean, their star chaser, supported Harry's decision, they were included in their field of silence. It was only when Harry said he'd personally select and coach the replacement Seeker that the others started talking again.  
  
The second weekend back, after Harry's first regularly scheduled appointment with Madam Pomfery, they held tryouts. Ron, naturally, as well as Dean, and Draco accompanied Harry to the pitch. Some of the Gryffindors frowned when they saw the Seeker of Slytherin there, but the four boys ignored them.  
  
Dennis Creevey, the fourth year boy Harry had originally suggested, was there, and both Draco and Harry agreed he was good, definitely seeker material. The last student to try out was a fifth year by the name of Amelie Jordan. She was Lee Jordan's younger sister and so abnormally quiet for a Gryffindor that people took little notice of her. Several of the boys that had come to watch the tryouts snickered when she walked onto the field, but Harry quelled them with a glance.  
  
She was as good as Harry had been when he'd started flying, and Harry, Ron, Draco and Dean quickly came to the unanimous decision that she was Gryffindor's new seeker. Harry had immediately set out a coaching schedule for Amelie, every second afternoon and since Harry wasn't allowed within three feet of a broom, Ron and Dean had decided that one of them would accompany him, and do all Harry's flying for him. Draco had spoken up, and said that he would take his turn too. When Dean had asked him why he was so willing to help train Gryffindor's seeker, he'd smirked and said it wasn't worth competing against a seeker who couldn't even pull off a Wronski Feint properly.  
  
On an afternoon in the middle of October, it had been Draco accompanying Harry to the training session. That day Harry had decided Amelie was ready to be coached through the Wronski Feint. Harry began by going through the theory of it all with Amelie. Barely ten minutes into Harry's lecture, Draco had grown bored and wandered off down the stands, leaving his broom propped against Harry's knee. Twenty minutes later, during which time Harry had finished his lecture and watched Amelie through two trials runs of the Feint, both of which she botched, Draco was still not back, and Harry was getting impatient. Another ten minutes later, and Amelie had almost plowed into the stands when she turned the wrong direction and then pulled out of the feint far too early twice in a row. And Draco was still absent. Harry began to toy with the other boy's broom. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to simply fly up there and show Amelie why the way she gripped her broom at the beginning of her dive was all wrong. It wasn't like he was actually going to *do* the feint, or anything.  
  
His mind made up, Harry stood and bade the broom hover. He had been just about to swing his leg over the broom when a voice interrupted him.  
  
"Mr. Potter, you're not actually planning to *fly* that broom, are you?"  
  
Harry had frozen and swivelled slowly around to face Professor Snape. The man was standing two rows above him, his lips in a thin white line, his worst glower on his face. Harry had flushed guiltily.  
  
"No, sir," he had muttered, and Snape had responded: "Of course not."  
  
His voice had lowered so that Amelie, hovering some metres above them and watching with avid interest, wouldn't overhear. "Of course, the great Harry Potter would never break a ban imposed upon him with his own safety and that of..." Snape paused and his eyes flickered to Harry's mid-section, "others... in mind."  
  
At that, Harry had felt unaccountably angry with Snape. How dare this man judged him on his notoriety when he knew *full* *well* that Harry had never asked to be famous! Before Harry had managed to summon the breath to snap at the man, Snape was gone with a last glower and a swirl of his robes. Harry kicked the bleachers, swore when he stubbed his toe, and called off the rest of practice for the night. Amelie hadn't been game to say anything to him.  
  
The one thing Harry couldn't hide, and everybody saw fit to comment upon - except, strangely enough, Snape - was Harry's new clumsiness. He couldn't seem to go a day any more without stumbling at least three times. And when he stood up from the table, or sat up from lying down too quickly, his head would spin and his vision briefly darken. He'd have to reach out suddenly and steady himself. He soon learnt to move more slowly when standing, or rising from a prone position. Madam Pomfery assured him that the dizziness was all to be expected and that there was nothing to worry about, and Hermione confirmed it with the further research she'd done of pregnancies in general.  
  
But there was nothing Harry could do about his general sense of being perpetually off-balance. It was like coming off a fast carousel and having the world tilted slightly off kilter. Only it was permanent. Seamus found it hilarious and was heard to say on more than one occasion that it was a good thing that Harry'd quit the team, else he'd likely fall off his broom in mid-air. Then first time he'd said that, Dean had thumped him for it. But Harry didn't really mind the taunts. He was more worried about falling and hurting his baby. Harry was terrified that he would miscarry and lose the only chance he had of having a child of his own body.  
  
But the main reason Harry half-dreaded, half-greatly anticipated Halloween was because Sirius would be visiting that night.  
  
The second day back at Hogwarts, Harry had headed up to the Owlery with a letter clutched in his hand, detailing his current condition. He had fully intended to send it, thinking it would be easier that way. But at the last moment, he had chickened out on sending it. Or come to his senses. He couldn't decide which. In the end, he had used the supply of parchment in the Owlery to scribble a short note to his godfather, saying that he needed to see him, that there was something he wanted to tell him, but not to worry, he wasn't in any ... danger. He had been going to write 'trouble', but had thought that Sirius would probably view this as trouble. After all, he looked upon Harry as his son, and Harry wasn't more than seventeen years old and had been knocked up and dumped.  
  
Harry didn't think Sirius would be inclined to take the news calmly.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Under the cover of his invisibility cloak, Harry crept along the wall behind the backs of the students as they all piled into the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. The only people likely to miss him from the Gryffindor table would be Ron, Dean and Hermione, and since they already knew where he was going, it was the perfect time for Harry to sneak out to meet his godfather.  
  
The last of the students were filtering into the Hall as Harry slipped through the front doors and down the steps into the crisp evening. Sirius had sent Harry an owl earlier in the day to say that he had arrived at Hogwarts and was currently holed up in the Shrieking Shack, which was where Harry was headed now. He hurried across the lawn towards the Whomping Willow, not bothering to be too quiet, trusting the cloak and the fact of the Feast to keep him from notice. Snatching up the branch he'd by the tree that afternoon for this exact purpose, Harry prodded the knot at the base of the tree that froze the branches.  
  
He dropped the branch and ducked into the tunnel mouth, stumbling as he went. He slid the cloak from his shoulders halfway along the tunnel and folded it over his arm. He had barely emerged out of the tunnel into the Shrieking Shack when he was enveloped in a tight hug. Harry squeaked as the air was forced from his lungs, and batted futilely at Sirius's back - the only part of him Harry's hands could now reach.  
  
Sirius finally released his tight hold on his godson only to step back, grasp Harry's shoulders and appraise him from head to toe.  
  
"You look well enough," he said, turning Harry in his grip.  
  
"Getting a bit fat," he added, poking at the small bulge that was visible beneath Harry's muggle clothing.  
  
"Sirius!" Harry jerked out of his godfather's loosened grip.  
  
Sirius looked slightly affronted, "What? You sent me a letter saying that you needed to see me, to tell me something in person. I got the impression it was rather urgent." His expression turned serious, "What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Harry."  
  
So much for not mentioning the word trouble in his note. Harry was suddenly terribly nervous about telling his godfather about the baby. Instead of giving the man a direct answer, he flopped down onto a shredded cushion, and said - rather sullenly - "What makes you think I'm in any trouble?"  
  
Sirius sat down across from him and regarded him soberly, "Harry, you're a resourceful young man. You have a good group of friends, just as bright and resourceful as you, if not more so. You've always relied on yourself first, and them second, to solve any troubles in your life. So when you send me an owl saying that there's something you to talk with me in person about, I start to worry." He leant forward and places a gentle hand on Harry's knee.  
  
"I know there's something important going on, Harry. And, whatever it is, I'm more than willing to do whatever I can to help you. You should know that."  
  
Harry turned his head away, still feeling unaccountably nervous and unsure. "I'm pregnant," he whispered.  
  
"Pardon?" Sirius said, "Sorry, Harry, I didn't hear you."  
  
Harry closed his eyes and whispered a little louder, "I said 'I'm pregnant'."  
  
Sirius blinked, "What?"  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and spoke loudly, "I *said* I-"  
  
"No. No, I heard you Harry," Sirius interrupted him, "I just..." He trailed off.  
  
Harry cracked his eyes open and looked at his godfather. Sirius simply sat there, his hand still on Harry's knee, a shocked expression on his face. The silence stretched and Harry began to find it unbearably uncomfortable. He shifted, pulling his knee out from beneath Sirius's hand and opened his mouth to speak.  
  
Sirius beat him to it, a dazed expression still in his eyes.  
  
"Wow," he murmured in an awed voice, "I'm going to be a grandfather... A god-grandfather, I mean. Or is it grand-godfather....?"  
  
Harry stilled, staring at his godfather in surprise, "You... you mean you... don't mind?"  
  
Sirius blinked and finally focused on Harry again, "Mind?" A huge smile spread across his face, "Why should I mind? This is fantastic!"  
  
Sirius gathered Harry in a tight hug. Leaning back again, he stretched Harry's shirt across his abdomen and beamed down at the revealed bump. "That's the third generation of Marauders there. Wait until Moony finds out!"  
  
Harry began to smile tentatively. He couldn't believe Sirius was taking it so well. He had been sure Sirius was going to go of his head at him. He glanced up at Sirius form under his eyelashes, "You're not mad that I'm pregnant at only seventeen?"  
  
Sirius paused, and his smile faded a little, "I'm not too happy about it, Harry, but I know how male pregnancies work. I know that you love this little one's father," he said, resting a hand over Harry's unborn child. Harry felt a glow of warmth emanating from the baby.  
  
"Yeah, I do," Harry murmured, smiling sadly. But Sirius had missed Harry's tone as he jumped to his feet and started pacing the room.  
  
"There's so much to do!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "Right. First things first. When's the baby due?" he demanded of Harry.  
  
"Easter," Harry replied, "But -"  
  
Sirius cut him off, "At least we have plenty of time until then. But there's still so much to do! We'll have to find you somewhere safe to live after Hogwarts. Dumbledore can help with that. I presume he already knows?" Harry nodded, but Sirius didn't seem to require an answer as he rambled on. "But that is still a long time away. Before that's there so much else.  
  
"You'll have to find out the gender as soon as possible and choose your baby's names. Then we can start organising the naming ceremony. Being who you are, you won't want to leave that until more than an hour after the birth, so we'll have to be prepared.  
  
"We'll have to go shopping of course. You'll need to buy baby clothes, and nappies, and bottles, and furniture. How do you feel about a wet nurse? Or would you prefer to feed your baby yourself?  
  
"But the first thing we will have to deal with is the nuptials," Sirius paused in his pacing and looked at Harry, "Have you and your boyfriend talked much about that yet?"  
  
Harry gaped at him. He couldn't believe how enthusiastic Sirius was about his godson having a baby. Going on about living arrangements, purchasing baby items, a naming ceremony - what was that anyway? But then... Nuptials? Sirius expected Harry to get married?  
  
Caught speechless, Harry wordlessly shook his head at his godfather.  
  
Sirius hitched his shoulders briefly and started to pace again, "Well, you'll want to do that straight away. It shouldn't be too hard -"  
  
"Sirius..." Harry tried to interrupt.  
  
"- to find a celebrant. Of course, it will have to be someone we trust. Maybe Arthur Weasley. He works for the Ministry, and -"  
  
"Sirius!" Harry tried again.  
  
"- that should qualify him to preform the ceremony. You probably won't want to invite many people, will you? You'll have to -"  
  
"Sirius!" Harry shot to his feet and grabbed his godfather's arm. "There won't be any wedding."  
  
Sirius finally paused, "Nuptials, not wedding; it's not the same as the muggle ceremony. And of course there will be nuptials. You don't want your baby growing up a bastard, do you?"  
  
"No, I don't, but -"  
  
"See? Then there's nothing to worry about. You obviously love your boyfriend, or you wouldn't be pregnant, so no buts about it," Sirius proclaimed.  
  
"*But*," Harry stressed, "It's not my choice."  
  
Sirius turned to look at Harry, "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Harry dropped Sirius's arm and wrapped his own around himself, "It means there won't be any wedding, or nuptials, or whatever you want you call it. It means that we're not together any more."  
  
Sirius spluttered, "Not... what? Not together...? But..."  
  
Harry tightened his arms about himself and looked away, "He dumped me when I told him I was pregnant."  
  
When his comment was met with silence, Harry looked back. Sirius's face was suffused with blood, and his fists were clenched at his sides.  
  
"He... dumped... you?" he choked out, and when Harry nodded dully, Sirius became a whirlwind of motion. He grabbed Harry's shoulders as though to shake him, but thought the better of shaking his pregnant godson, and letting go, kicked a broken chair leg across the room instead.  
  
"Where is he? *Who* is he? He can't do this! He can't just leave you like that! You will be bonded, even if I have to hold a wand to his head to get him to the altar -!"  
  
Harry paled, "Sirius! No! You can't do that to Jason!"  
  
Sirius snarled, "Jason, is it? Well, we'll see. No self-respecting wizard gets his partner pregnant and then refuses to commit. *Especially* not when said partner is *my* godson -!"  
  
"Sirius," Harry interrupted in a soft voice, "Jason isn't a wizard; he's a muggle."  
  
Sirius froze and turned slowly to stare at Harry. "A *muggle*?"  
  
Harry hurried on while he had the chance, "Jason doesn't understand about our world. Hell, half the time, even *I* don't really understand it. He wouldn't fit in here and -"  
  
Sirius recovered himself then and rode over Harry's words, "I don't care if he's a muggle. I don't care if he's a goddamn *vampire*! He has a responsibility to you, and *by Merlin*, I'm going to see he lives up to it!"  
  
A tear escaped down Harry's cheek and he whispered, "Please Sirius. Don't push this. It wouldn't be fair. Not to him. Not to me.  
  
"And it definitely wouldn't be fair to my baby. I'd rather my child had only me than two parents, one of whom resented him or her. Jason doesn't love me, and he was horrified at the thought of a child. He'd end up hating us, and I don't think I could stand that.  
  
"So please," another tear streamed down Harry's face, "Please leave it alone."  
  
Harry didn't even try to stop the tears now, and for a long time, his quiet sobs were the only sound. Slowly, a hand reached out and brushed the tears from his cheeks.  
  
"Okay," Sirius whispered, gathering Harry into his arms and holding him tight, "Okay, I won't try to get you to bond with this Jason. You deserve to be happy. I just wanted you to have the perfect family."  
  
Harry wrapped his arms about his godfather's waist and clung tight, letting his tears flow freely. Sirius just held him like he would a child, rocking him and whispering soothing nothings into his hair.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Over an hour later, when Harry left, he didn't even notice that the stick he had left at the base of the Whomping Willow was snapped into pieces, almost as though someone had taken out their frustrations on the hapless piece of wood. 


	7. Chapter Seven

AN: Hey all. Aren't I (moderately) wonderful? I didn't take nearly as long to update this time. And it shouldn't take all that long to get the next chapter out either. I just have to decide what order I want all my half-written scenes in.

Okay, two things. Well, really only one. This chapter is dedicated to my good friend Ellidyay, because I borrowed the letter idea from her wonderful story Father of Mine (read it. Go on, you know you want to!) Yes, and she also read over this chapter (well parts of it) first, so the credit goes to her for that to...

Anyway I'd like to thank my reviewers: Lucied, wintermoon2, Corgi1, DARKMEW13, Shania Maxwell, npretrenko, rayvern, Layce74, Eve11, Lillie chan, InKy, anime_fan, pixyfairy120, VtE, Leah, Harmoni, Baby sphinx, crissy, Manda Lee 04, Maximum Poofy-Queen of AU, Rose Creighton, Magami, Crow21681, chaotic kaat, yumi-no-baka, Iniysa, anne may.

Mikee: Hey Mikee. I know I promised you a chapter of 'Time Warp', but I've had writer's block forever. I think I'm going to have to finish this story first and then move on to my others. But thank you so much for reviewing...

Alyce: *glomps* Eh. I never really had a reason for disappearing. But I'm pretty sure it had something to do with baybels. *G* Hee, I don't exactly have a soft spot for Jason either... *damns him to helll* But he's rather indispensable. Oh, and I will be getting around to writing back... I swear I will. I have to write to Cy too...

Ayame: I'm so sorry. I don't have an excuse at all to offer you. And you have every right to squash me like that. I'll try to be online, more often. *grins*

venus4280: Wow. Thank you for the brilliant review. I kind of don't know what to say. I hate rushing into stories head long, and what's the point of writing an mpreg if you're not going to dwell on the pregnancy? So yeah, *shrugs*... And I just love Herm/Draco. I think they're cute together. I'm glad you liked the way I mixed things up with Harry's friends...

Chapter Seven:

~To J. Phillips,

Dear Jason,

Jason,

It wasn't my idea to write to you. If I had it my way, I'd never communicate with you again – even if I don't intend to send this letter. But Hermione just wouldn't leave me alone. She thinks if I write down how I'm feeling – how it felt when you rejected me and my *our* baby – I'll start to feel better. She thinks I'll get over you. Ha. Like that'll ever happen.

I suppose it's my fault, really. I shouldn't have let her see how down I've been recently. I should have hidden it better. Damn hormones. But it's just so hard, you know? She's got Draco, and Ron's got Blaise. Sure, there's Dean, but that's not the same. He's not...you. He's not you, and that just makes it all different.

My morning sickness has finally stopped. Madam Pomfery – that's the mediwitch that's taking care of me – said that it's about time. She's been worried that I haven't been eating enough, not getting all the right vitamins and that. She says now that my appetite's back, my body'll start telling me what I need to eat to get the right minerals and stuff. Things like brussel sprouts (you know how much I hate the things) and kidney pie. Ron can't wait to see what strange cravings I come up with.

I'm really starting to show now. Even with my robes on. Seamus (one of my roommates) keeps teasing me about putting on weight. I think Neville suspects something, though. He hasn't said anything, but I see him watching me all the time. He caught me vomiting that first morning back at school. And he was there the first time the baby moved.

It was the most amazing thing, Jason! You should have been...

He – I haven't found out the gender yet, but I can't bear to call my baby 'it' – anyway, he just started kicking last week. And I haven't had more than an hour's peace since. I think I'll teach him to play football when he's born. With a kick like that, he could play for Man U. If he was muggle, that is. Maybe I'll get the Weasley twins (you remember me telling you about my best friend Ron? They're his brothers) to teach him to play beater. You remember how I told you about the game Quidditch..?

Aunt Molly (Ron's mum) is already making baby gowns. Since we don't know the gender yet, they're all red and gold. She wanted me to come and live at The Burrow (that's their house) for the summer, or as long as I needed, until I could find a place for me and the baby. Professor Dumbledore vetoed that idea though. He said that while Voldemort is still alive, it would be safer for us to stay at Hogwarts.

They've started converting an apartment near the hospital wing for me. They're all helping: Ron, Hermione, Dean, Draco, Blaise. Even Remus Lupin, one of my dad's friends, has done his bit. He made a cradle. Not that I've seen it yet. They won't let me near the place. It's meant to be a sort of baby-shower gift.

I told my godfather, Sirius, on Halloween. He took it so much better than I thought he would. Well, at least until I told him that we wouldn't be getting married. Huh. Can you believe that? He thought we should get married. I soon convinced him of the idiocy of that idea. But just be grateful you don't ever have to meet him. I think it's safe to say that you're almost at the top of his most hated people list. Right up there with Snape and Voldemort.

Everyone's been amazingly supportive. Only four of the teachers know so far: the Heads of House. Luckily, that covers the two most dangerous classes: Transfiguration and Potions. Professor McGonagall (she's the Transfig. Professor and my Head of House) makes sure I'm always paired with Hermione when we have to do any praticals. Professor Flitwick (the Charms teacher) taught me some handy little charms to hide my growing belly later on. I'll start using them in a week or two, but Madam Pomfery says its best to use as little magic on my body as possible.

Professor Snape (the Potions Master – he *hates* me) has been really weird. Almost... nice. I mean, I thought for sure he'd be taunting me all the time about getting pregnant while I was still in school, and no father in sight. But he hasn't. And I see him watching me all the time. Of course, I still constantly get into trouble in his classes, but I'm pretty sure that at least some of the time, it's just an excuse to get me out of the way when the class is making a potion that could be dangerous for my baby. He keeps on sending me to stocktake his supplies, or tidy his papers...

Yes, everyone's been good to me, really. Especially me friends. Hermione, naturally, has become something of an expert on male pregnancies. Blaise is really supportive, and Ron and Draco are really very sweet. And Dean... well, I guess you could say that Dean's taken your place. He's my emotional support. The others won't come near me when I'm in a crying fit (which I thankfully don't get very often) but Dean's always there for me....

I just hope there's no limit on how many godparents one baby can have. I don't think I could choose between those five. If it wasn't for them, I don't think I would have made it this far without breaking down.

But I still can't help wondering why it is that I have to rely on *them* for everything. It isn't Dean that should be holding me and telling me that everything will be okay. Ron and Draco shouldn't have to put up with me cursing all males. Hermione shouldn't have been the one that mopped my brow when I forgot to take the anti-nausea potion. Blaise shouldn't have been the first one to feel my baby move.

But they're all I have. And it's all you fault. You should have been the one doing all that for me; it should have been you with your hands on my stomach when he moved for the first time. You should be the one making lists of names, not Ron and Draco and Dean. *You* should be here for me, you fucking bastard. It's your fault I'm pregnant.

Why am I even writing this? It's nothing you want to hear. It's nothing you're *going* hear. It's not even something you deserve to hear. You don't deserve to know how I'm doing, and how my pregnancy is progressing. You forfeited all rights when you suggested I 'terminate' my baby, didn't you, you base-born son-of-a-bitch.

Not that you care anyway. You don't care that for days after you rejected us, I cried myself to sleep every night, and had to convince myself to get up in the morning. You don't care that I still do, sometimes. It won't matter at all to you when my baby is born, will it? I was just a fuck to you, wasn't I. Just some summer fun who you'd forget about a month later. I bet you'll grow up into a nice *straight* boy, marry a pretty little wife, have two kids and that white picket fence. You won't ever want to remember that you have a *first-born* out there who never did anything to make you reject him but be born. I'll never forgive you for abandoning us. Never. Not matter what your reasons.

But you know the *worst thing of all*? The thing that keeps me up at night? The thing that makes me cry myself to sleep? Despite it all, despite you suggesting I murder my child, despite you dumping me. In spite of the fact that I *hate* you... I still love you. 

I'm even starting to think what Ron said before Blaise thumped him might be true: that a wizard only ever falls in love once. I guess it was just my misfortune that I fell in love with you. I'll never forgive myself for that. I'll never forgive myself for not being able to give my child the family I so desperately wanted when I was a kid.

Fuck, you've made me cry again, you bastard.

Love,

Harry James Potter~

Harry and Hermione were sitting in the common room on Christmas Eve's day when the owl arrived. It swooped into the room and perched on the arm of Harry's chair. It was a school bird, identifiable by the odd blue-grey of its plumage and the tag around its left leg. When Hermione saw it, she paled dramatically, but before Harry could ask her what was wrong, the bird began to squawk demandingly. To preserve his eardrums, Harry quickly divested it of it's burden and then watched as the owl launched itself into the air and swept out.

Momentarily forgetting Hermione, Harry turned his attention to the parcel the owl had delivered. It was a package roughly half the size of one of the couch's throw cushions, and wrapped in rather non-descript brown paper and string. Tucked under the knot in the string was an envelope addressed simply to: _"Harry Potter, c/o Hogwarts School"_

Harry wiggled the letter loose, and flipped it over. As there was no return address on the back, Harry slit the envelope open and removed the letter within. He skipped directly to the name at the end of the letter, and the sign-off that he read there made him freeze.

"Sincerest wishes, Jason M. Phillips..." slowly Harry raised his eyes and stared at his best friend on the couch opposite him. "Hermione, what did you do?" he whispered.

Hermione flushed, but didn't drop her eyes, "I'm sorry, Harry. I thought he should know. I never expected him to write back."

Harry was distantly aware that the letter in his hands was shaking. Not prepared to read it yet, he hastily set it aside and turned instead to the parcel that had accompanied it. Slowly, he picked apart the knot and unraveled the string that had been used to secure it. Just as slowly, he folded back the paper to reveal the contents.

What he saw there wasn't what he had been expecting. He'd thought maybe Jason was returning some article of clothing Harry had forgotten, or, worse, Jason was giving back the sweater Harry had bought him for his birthday. Certainly no this. Harry lifted the item from the brown paper. It was perhaps a metre square and cut of soft, warm green material, etched with tiny silver lightening bolts. It was a baby blanket.

Harry's eyes stung and a cold, wet ribbon snaked its way down his cheek. Harry didn't even bother to wipe away the tears, or curse his disrupted hormones. He leapt to his feet, tumbling both the letter and the blanket to the floor, and turned for the stairs to the dormitories.

Behind him, Hermione called out, "Harry, I –", but Harry just shook his head and disappeared up the stairs.

Hermione was left sitting on the couch, regretting her decision to send that letter to Jason. She had convinced Harry to write, and once he was done, it had been clear he felt the lighter for it. Hating Jason for what he had done to her best friend, she had thought the other boy deserved to know how Harry felt. She'd sent the letter, never expecting Harry to get a reply.

Tears stung at Hermione's eyes too as she slowly bent to retrieve the blanket. She folded it neatly, and picked up the letter as well. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know he could still hurt you."

Slowly, she climbed the stairs to the boys' dorms and, at the closed door to the seventh years' room, she paused. She set down her burden down, knowing Harry would find it when he was ready to emerge. Resting a hand briefly on the door, she listened to the muffled sobs a moment before turning away. "I'm so sorry, Harry. But he didn't deserve you."

__

~Dear Harry,

I'm not asking for forgiveness; I know I don't deserve it. And I'm not going to try to excuse my actions either. I don't think they need excusing. But I do believe I owe you an explanation.

I never meant to hurt you, Harry. Nor did I mean to lead you to believe that our relationship could ever be more than a summer 'fling'. I wasn't ready to commit to something long term. I'm not sure I'll ever reach that stage. We came at that relationship with two very different ideas of where it was going.

When you looked at me with your eyes so full of hope, and told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I wasn't ready to be a father. I'm not even the parenting type. Surely you must have realized that?

Our situation was just untenable. You said it yourself: you're the Boy Who Lived. You're famous in the wizarding world. I couldn't have fitted into that life, even if I had wanted to. Those people surely wouldn't stand to see their hero stuck with someone like me for life.

I am truly glad that you and the baby are doing well, and that you have all you friends to support you. I could never forget you. As cold as this comfort may be, please believe when I say that, in my own way, I love you. But for us to be together, even without the baby, would be impossible. There are reasons you don't... reasons I don't believe you'd understand.

Sincerest wishes,

Jason M. Phillips~


	8. Chapter Eight

AN: I don't have any notes I want to put in here. Or at the end. I'll just answer everyone's reviews, shall I?

xikum: Uh-uh. No reasons shall be given at this point in time. (; Don't worry, all will become clear.

Corgi1: Heh. As I said, I kinda stole that letter idea from my friend Ellidyay. But I'm glad you liked the format. And the contents.

someonesgurl: Yup. Damn Jason. The character everyone just loves to hate. =D

Ox King: *shivers delightedly* I made you cry? I _love_ it when my writing touches people like that. Thank you!

sassw14: Really, thank you.

yumi-no-baka: Erp. *hides Jason from her wrath* =D

Lucied: It was a tough chapter to write. I'm not all that good at first person, so... thank you for the compliment.

crissy: Really? What makes you think that? *interested*

Maximum Poofy-Pissed Off Queen: *is tempted to kill someone* Thank you, though!

Mikee: *glomps* Nope. Don't need to tell me that SS/HP is your favourite ship... And Yes, Harry can't really decide whether or not he really hates or loves Jason. Isn't it wonderful?

Manda Lee04: Wow. You're like the third person who cried! I wish more of my stories got that reaction...

Lacey74: Thank you so much!

frizzy: Okay, so what is it with people suspecting Draco? *L* And I do so love befuddling my readers... I'm glad you like my story.

Cloudburst2000: Hmm, I did answer your email, didn't I? Well, I won't say anything here, either. (;

Redrose2310: Ooo, another SS/HP shipper.

Cameron (it's easier to type): *chortles* Maybe I should write more chapters like that. Maybe I can even get you to forgive me for corrupting you, Which, by the way, I SO didn't do. *G* Heh. I don't much like Jason either.

Ayame: I sign on, and you're never there! *wails* 

Pixyfairy120: You know, I wouldn't mind knowing what was going to happen next either. My characters never tell me.

KittenBabyGirl: Fine! Fine! The _periwinkle_ button! Happy? =P The best mpreg? *glomps*

Sapphire Raine: Unfortunately, nobody gets to know what the reason are until I'm good and ready to reveal them. But all will become clear. And as for the teachers knowing Jason... ~_^

kathy stggvk: Harry's true love? I've already said. "A wizard only falls in love once". *fiendish grin*

Sapphic Priestess: Nope. Not going to stop writing this story. I'm having too much fun with it.

Saavik13: Oh? What else weird? I want to hear now! Heh, and you won't have to wait long at all...

npetrenko: Glad you liked my chapter. And now I deliver 'more'...

Actually, I changed my mind. Just one note: I have the feeling that many people will be... disappointed by the turns my story takes later on. And, being that I live off my reviews, I can't help but feel a little bad about that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to change _anything_. So, fair warning, mm-kay?

Chapter Eight:

Pregnancy, Harry decided, was a _bitch_. And he'd thought the first trimester was bad. All it had was morning sickness and tiredness. Not a patch on what the end of the second trimester held. If his unborn baby wanted a younger sibling, he or she would have to beg long and hard to even get Harry to consider the prospect.

His body was in a constant state of flux, not the least of which was the ever-changing centre of gravity. Harry couldn't go a day with tripping at least twice. Fortunately, he'd only _fallen_ three times; none of which had been serious. On the other hand, he couldn't count the number of bruises in the shape of hands he'd collected because one or another of his friends had grabbed him roughly to stop the fall. Seamus had more than once said jokingly it was a good thing Harry was off the quidditch team: he'd surely have fallen to his death by now if he'd been flying.

His back ached like bloody murder most of the time, and when Harry tried to garner sympathy from Blaise and Hermione, more often than not they smirked at him and said that he now knew what they went through once a month.

He was starting to have trouble getting up from sitting or lying down. His feet ached, his ankles had swollen to abnormal sizes, and whenever he removed the concealment charm he now used, Harry looked like he'd swallowed a quaffle. Draco made the grievous mistake of mentioning this to Harry and had earned himself very sore lower regions. Nobody commented on it again.

Harry had gone from sleepiness to sleeplessness, though this may have had something to do with the fact that the baby had taken to practicing its beater methods on his bladder. He could barely go an entire lesson without needing to visit the bathroom, and he hadn't slept the night through in so long he hardly knew what it was like anymore.

Then there were his crying jags. In the days after Harry'd received the letter from Jason, they'd become worse. The only good thing he could see about it was that he hadn't broken down in front of anyone except his friends. Ron and Draco always got incredibly uncomfortable and soon left the room. Of course, that may have had something to do with the fact that at such times Harry usually began cursing all male kind and making noises about castrating the lot of them. And Hermione and Blaise would glare at them when they tried to defend themselves by pointing out that Harry, too, was male. For some reason, that only ever served to make him even more upset, and Dean seemed to be the only one who could calm him down. 

And then, of course, there were Harry's cravings…

He didn't know what the other students made of it; all he knew was that he had become the entertainment at every meal. The entire Gryffindor table (and no few Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins) would watch avidly to see what combination of foods Harry would pile onto his plate that meal; such combinations as Worcestershire sauce on his ice cream, kippers and honey on his morning toast, his tea taken with lemon and just a dash or three of salt, and marmite on his roast beef. 

Naturally, Ron, Draco and Dean found it hilarious; Hermione got exasperated with everyone, and Blaise, who, with Draco, had taken to eating at the Gryffindor table, would try to remove from Harry's plate everything she deemed unhealthy and replace it with what she thought he should be eating. Harry privately thought she was in league with Madam Pomfery. 

The professors were no help in dispersing the crowd either. Dumbledore, Harry was sure, found it rather amusing. McGonagall, Sprout and Pomfery all just smiled tolerantly and watched to make sure he ate enough vegetables (Harry thought they were all in league as well). Professor Flitwick just beamed at him constantly, and Harry was being to think he'd somehow acquired an adoptive great-uncle in the little professor. The other professors were somewhat bemused by it all, but they followed the Headmaster's lead and let it be. The only one the thrice-daily spectacle seemed to bother was Snape.

Snape would glare at Harry the whole meal through, as though the attention he was receiving was somehow his fault. Harry couldn't help it if everyone thought his new eating habits were amusing.

As he heaped raspberries on top of his roast chicken, Harry decided that having Snape staring at him was more unsettling then the gazes of the rest of the school combined. Maybe it was the way it was just so _fixed_. It never strayed to his plate, like everyone else's did. The only place that black stare did stray was to whomever happened to be sitting next to Harry, usually Dean. But what bothered Harry the most was that he hadn't really noticed Snape staring at him during meals until Seamus has pointed it out, just that afternoon.

Harry had been curled up on one end of the common room couch, his arms wrapped around a pillow. He was chatting with Ginny, who sat on the floor, leaning against his side. Hermione was sitting in a nearby armchair, her lap cluttered with texts and scrolls. On the opposite end of Harry's couch, Neville was leaning over Seamus's shoulder so that he, too, could see the magazine the Irish boy held. The pair was laughing at an article they were reading.

Ginny jumped when Hermione slammed closed the book she'd been reading and snapped, "I don't know why you buy that thing, Seamus. It's just a waste of money!"

Seamus blinked at her, "What, _The Quibbler_?" he asked, waving the magazine he held.

"Yes, _that_," Hermione retorted, her low opinion of the publication clear, "It's full of stuff and nonsense."

Seamus smiled disarmingly, "But its _interesting_ stuff and nonsense. Just listen to the article me and Nev found:

"SUMMER ROMANCE – DOES TINTAGEL'S NEW MASTER HAVE A MISTRESS?

"_Just last summer, the ancient castle of Tintagel, birth place of the Muggle king, Arthur, received its new master. Professor Severus Snape of Hogwarts School is the last surviving relative of the traditional owners, the Dellits. The Potions Master is a solitary man with no heirs of his own, and he currently has no prospects for marriage in his life._

BUT DOES HE?

Recently, a new source (a Mr. H. Goodkind, former under footman for the Professor) has come forward with evidence that his gloomy air and cauldrons weren't the only things Professor Snape brought with him to Tintagel: the new master was accompanied by a 'companion'. Mr. Goodkind would not give a positive identification of the young man-"

"Humph. More like _couldn't_," Hermione snorted.

Seamus glared at her, but made no comment as he continued, "_but he did say that the youth had dark hair, was small in stature, and seemed to be rather intimately acquainted with the Professor. On more than one occasion, Mr. Goodkind observed the normally cold and reserved Potions Master smile at the youth, and allow him liberties with his person-_" here, both Neville and Seamus snorted with laughter before the Irish boy continued, "_such as frequent casual touch; even going so far as to allow the dark-haired young man to adjust his clothing and hair during Snape's sitting for the traditional portrait of the master of Tintagel (see photo)._

Further, Mr. Goodkind confirmed that for the duration of Professor Snape's various visits to Tintagel, his companion was accommodated in the suite adjoining the master's own: those which would traditionally belong to the mistress of the house.

Staff at the Castle refused to comment on the subject of the young man, but the fact remains that, as the sole surviving heir to two great fortunes, Snape is obliged to produce an heir of his own, and one wonders if this mysterious youth will become a more permanent fixture in the Professor's life."

Seamus finished the article and smiled triumphantly at his audience as though he had proved his point. Hermione snorted, "I don't believe a word of it."

Seamus rolled his eyes, "Hermione, you wouldn't..."

Harry tuned out the rest of their impending argument and instead took the magazine out of Seamus's hands to look at the article himself. He skimmed through the text that Seamus had faithfully read word for word, and then turned to the picture that accompanied it. It was undeniably Snape glaring up at him from it, and at first Harry couldn't see anything unusual about it. Snape was dressed in his usual black robes, and he did not look happy to be posing for a portrait. But then a pair of hands reached in from the side of the frame and tugged at the lapels of Snape's robes, adjusting and smoothing them. This, Snape bore with a tolerant frown, but when the hands reached up to brush back his hair, Snape scowled and shook the hands free.

"I bet Snape _fired_ that footman, and he's just making up a story to get back at him for it," Hermione snapped, drawing Harry's attention back to the argument.

Before Seamus could retaliate, Harry spoke up, "I agree with Hermione. That article's absolute bollocks. If there was a boy, he was probably Snape's godson, or apprentice or something like that." Harry tossed the magazine onto the couch, "All that about Snape marrying and producing an heir would have been more believable if that footman said the other person was _female_."

Seamus left off glaring at Hermione to stare instead at Harry.

"What?" Harry said defensively.

Seamus snorted and shook his head, "So much for 'it takes one to know one'."

Harry blinked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, come on, Harry! You don't seriously mean to tell me that you never noticed that Snape's as camp as a row of frilly pink tents?"

"_Gay_, you mean?" Harry gaped at Seamus, "Snape's not _gay_. He's…. he's…." Harry paused, wondering what, exactly, Snape was, "well, he's not _gay_!"

Seamus leant his head back over the arm of the couch. "Oi, Dean!" he shouted, calling the other boy away from the chess game he was involved in with Ron.

Dean pivoted in his seat, "What?"

"Is Snape gay?"

Dean snorted, "Only about as gay as me and Harry." He deserted his chess game to lean on the couch next to Neville, "Why do you ask?"

Seamus smirked at Harry, "Golden Boy here was oblivious to the fact."

Harry glared at him, "Fine. Presuming you're right and Snape _is_ gay – which I don't believe – how would you know? It's not like anybody's ever _seen_ Snape _with_ someone."

Seamus rolled his eyes, "Merlin, Harry! You really are oblivious, aren't you? You mean you never noticed Snape staring at you all the time? You and Dean, and Malfoy, and Justin, and that Ravenclaw, Boot: all the prettiest boys in the school. Snape's as gay as they come, and he knows which students are, too."

"Hey!" Hermione bristled, "Draco's not gay! Besides, we shouldn't be talking about a teacher like this. It's not polite. And you stop that, Seamus Finnegan!"

Seamus had held up one hand and was using it to parrot Hermione. He grinned impishly at her, "You'd be just as interested in finding out about Snape's little boy-toy as anybody else, Hermione. You just won't admit it."

Hermione scowled at the flippant Irish boy, "I would not. It's none of my business. It's none of yours either.

"Anyway, it's almost time for dinner." She swung around to face Harry; "We better go down to the Great Hall now."

Harry opened his mouth to say that he didn't feel like dinner, but Hermione beat him to it, " And don't say you're not hungry, Harry! You have to eat, and you know it."

Deciding that staying in Hermione's good books was the better part of not going down to the Great Hall, Harry had meekly pushed Ginny off him and clambered to his feet.

And now that Harry knew Snape was staring so fixedly at _him_, he found it disturbing. Though he refused to believe as Seamus did: that it was because Snape found him attractive. That would just be weird. But it was still distracting to have that black gaze fixed on him. Harry didn't even realize that dinner was over until Dean was shaking his arm to get his attention.

Even then, Harry simply got meekly to his feet and followed his friends from the Great Hall and through the corridors, content to let them decide where they were going.

"_Harry._"

Harry blinked, and was mildly surprised to find himself sitting next to Dean on the couch in Hermione's room. He honestly didn't remember coming here. The other five were all staring at him, and Blaise had an exasperated expression on her face. Harry decided that it must have been her that had been calling his name, so he addressed himself to her.

"Sorry. What did you say? I was a little distracted."

"Little? Huh!" Draco snorted, but Harry ignored him.

Blaise gave Harry a skeptical look, but didn't ask him what he'd been thinking of.

"I asked you when you were planning on finding out the gender of your baby," she repeated.

Harry blinked at the apparent non sequitur and Blaise elaborated, "I mean, Madam Pomfery would have been able to tell you _at least_ three weeks ago, but you still haven't found out." She narrowed her eyes like the suspicious Slytherin she was, "or have you, and you just didn't want to tell us?"

Harry started and held up his hands in denial, vehemently shaking his head, "No! I haven't found out the gender yet. You know I'd tell you guys if I had." Harry's eyes turned briefly sad, "Besides, I only _have_ you to tell. There's no one else, besides Sirius."

The others were all silent until Harry threw off his brief melancholy moment. "Besides," he said with an overly bright smile, "I don't know that I'll find out the gender of my baby, anyway. I quite like the idea of it being a surprise."

"_What?!_" shouted Draco, Blaise, Ron and Hermione in unison, "_You have to find out!_"

Dean and Harry reared back in shock, staring wide-eyed at the other four. Finally, Harry found his voice, "I don't _want_ to find out, and I'm not going to just to satisfy your curiosity," he finished, glaring at them.

"Harry," Draco said in a more reasonable tone, "It's not that we're curious, it's that you have to find out the gender so you can chose a name for the Naming Ceremony."

Ron, Blaise and Hermione all nodded, as though this explained everything. But it didn't. At least, not to Harry and Dean.

"Naming ceremony?" Harry asked, "Sirius mentioned that. What is it?"

Hermione sighed, exasperated, "Didn't you read _any_ of those books I got out of the library for you Harry?" Harry stayed mute and stared stonily at her, so she continued, "You need to chose a name for the Naming Ceremony in which you christen your baby."

Harry shrugged, "I can chose the name after my baby's born. There will be plenty of time before the baptism."

Dean nodded in agreement, Hermione rolled her eyes, and the three wizard-born students looked confused.

"Harry," Hermione began patiently, "The Naming Ceremony isn't really anything like a muggle baptism. It has to take place within hours of you giving birth."

  
Harry gaped, "Hours? But why?"

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'there's power in a name'? Well, it's true."

Draco nodded and took over the explanation from his girlfriend; "We're all essentially unnamed magical beings at birth. That's why the Naming Ceremony is done so soon after. The person who performs the ceremony is usually one of the parents, or a trusted and respected friend, because whoever names the child has a certain power of influence over him or her."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"If one of your enemies got hold of your baby before you named him, they'd be able to influence him away from the Light. They could entice him to grow up to be a Dark wizard," Blaise said earnestly. "Can you imagine what that would do to our world, Harry? Not to mention you. How awful would you feel if your only child turned out like Voldemort?"

Harry stared at her with a horrified expression; "My baby could be evil?"

Blaise nodded earnestly and Harry flinched, his hands coming up to cradle his pregnant belly.

"Well..." he paused, "Well, what happens in this Naming Ceremony? What will I have to do?"

"First, obviously, you have to find out the gender of your baby and chose a name–"

Ron interrupted Hermione's explanation, "The names are often chosen for their meanings; traits the parents would like to see in their child. Like 'Ronald' means 'powerful'-" Draco snorted and Ron thumped him on the arm, "-Ginny's name means 'chaste'. Draco's means 'dragon' or 'serpent'."

"What does yours mean, Blaise?" Dean asked.

Blaise flushed and mumbled something.

"Pardon? We didn't hear you Blaise," Draco smirked.

Blaise glared at him but repeated herself louder, "It means 'cleric'. My mum's sister is a priestess, and she wanted me to be the same."

The four boys snickered, but before Blaise could retaliate, Hermione resumed her explanation of the Naming Ceremony. "Once you've chosen the names–"

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "_Names_?"

"Yes. You chose two, a first and a middle name."

"Oh. Right." Harry gestured for her to continue.

"Anyway, once you've got the names, you decide who you want to actually perform the ceremony – which, I guess, will be you, Harry?" she hurried on before Harry could make a pessimistic remark. "You'll have to learn the wording – it's different according to the gender of the baby: you call on different powers. Then, when the baby's born and you're ready to do the ceremony, you take him in your arms and begin the incantations. When the powers are at their peak, you take a knife and–"

"A _knife_?" Harry exploded, "Nobody's coming near _my_ baby with a knife!"

"Harry, calm down!" Hermione snapped, "The knife's for you, not your baby. Besides, you need it. The ceremony's blood magic, and –"

"But I thought blood magic was illegal," Dean interrupted, and Harry could tell Hermione was starting to get annoyed at the interruptions.

"It _is_. Except for this ceremony. The blood of the caster is required in this spell to anchor the name to the child, and to tie the child to the castor. Harry, all you have to do is cut your thumb and as you say the last words of the ceremony – "I name thee so-and-so" – you dab your baby's forehead, lips and chest with your blood. If it's immediately absorbed into the skin, then the ceremony's worked, and your baby is safe from being influenced by others."

Hermione sat back triumphantly, having gotten to the end of her explanation without any further interruptions. The others all looked expectantly at Harry while he thought through this new information. Eventually, he nodded.

"Okay. Next time I go to see Madam Pomfery, I'll find out the gender of my baby."

Draco, Ron, Blaise and Hermione all relaxed and began to smile.

"Wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, "And I'll go to the library. I found some books on the origins and meanings of names there, and –"

In unison, the other five groaned.


	9. Chapter Nine

AN: It took longer than expected to get this chapter out. Primarily because I had to rewrite it. So without further ado (don't you just love that phrase?) I give you my responses to reviews, and chapter nine.

Alyce: *huggles* No, I don't think you'll be too disappointed. Ooo, run0ins with Snape and Harry... *plots*

Headncloud: Why thank you.

Corgi1: *L* Thank you. I hope this chapter lives up to your standards.

Pixyfairy120: I've been updating as soon as I finish the chapters...

Kana-chan: *G* Thanks for the great review. But I won't confirm or deny your suspicions just yet. ;)

Wintermoon2: *L* You just asked a lot of question I can't answer without giving away the story...

Gryphnwng: Heh, I don't mind if you haven't reviewed before. What matters is that you're reviewing now!

Maximum Poofy-Pissed Off Queen: Names? ... I already have the baby's name, but I have yet to think of some others... ;)

Manda Lee04: *L* It's fun choosing names, ain't it?

Luceid: Heh. I just had to put that part in. I thought it was amusing too.

Lillie chan: Thanks. I needed to hear that. ;)

Layce74: *grins* thank you

Ashes7: Thank you. I do try to keep my stories original.

Crissy: Crazy is a good word for them.

Kitt: Yeah, I did find that Blaise could mean 'stammerer', but it also means 'priest' in Gaelic.

Venus4280: Wow. You really put a lot of thought into that, didn't you? Thank you. Well, I will say that I don't think you will be disappointed with my story... And, will *no one* vote for a boy? ;)

ShadowQuirk: Uhuh! I'm not going to answer that question. ;) But thank you for calling my story unique.

Iniysa: Thank you, and more is here.

Furies: Hmm, didn't think said young man with Snape would get so much attention... *G*

Andromeda's kitty: Luckily for you, you actually find out the gender in this chapter. *G*

Anita: o.O Wonderful, wonderful reviews from you. Thank you so much for all your praise. And did I mention that I love Escapology? Anyway, shall email you...

Anime_fan: Thanks for that site address. I'll probably use it too.

Sapphic Priestess: Heh. You'll just have to wait and see...

Leeanna-Marie-Malfoy: Funny? Really? Thank you.

Saavik13: Why wouldn't Harry name his baby? And no, you can't vote on the sex, but I don't think you'll be disappointed. Thank you for reviewing.

Chapter Nine:

Three days later, Harry was running late for Potions class, but he couldn't bring himself to be worried. He was too distracted by the news Madam Pomfery had given him when he'd gone for his fortnightly check-up that lunch hour. She had brought out the infant-scope again and ran it slowly over his distended belly, pointing out the different areas on the display and explaining what they meant. She had directed his avid gaze to a small box in the upper corner, and when Harry read what it said there, Harry had burst into tears, smiling all the while. He knew what gender his baby was.

The medi-witch had smiled fondly at Harry and packed away her equipment, giving Harry the time and privacy he needed to get a hold on his wayward hormones. Once he was more composed, Madam Pomfery had handed him a handkerchief to wipe his eyes, and then had surprised him by gathering him in a brief hug, congratulating him. As Harry stood to leave, readjusting his robes, Madam Pomfery reminded him of the date of his next check-up, and, almost as though it was an afterthought, she suggested the names of several books on the meanings of names and origins of the Naming Ceremony.

Now Harry was hurrying – hurrying, not running, because the girls would lambaste him if they found out he had run – down the corridors to the dungeon classroom. But not even the prospect of Snape's wrath could dim his euphoria. Harry paused outside the door to regain his composure and catch his breath. Knowing it was futile to try to wipe the grin off his face, he didn't even try. Instead, he hung his head in an attempt to hide his expression. He nudged the door open and shuffled in, hoping to avoid notice. Which, of course, was in vain.

"Potter," Snape purred, "How kind of you to grace us with your presence."

Not game to raise his head and let Snape see the expression on his face, Harry nodded mutely.

"Mr. Potter," Snape snapped, "When I address you, you will do me the courtesy of looking at me. Surely not even _you_ could that much of fascination in your shoes?"

Harry sighed in defeat and bit the inside of his cheeks in a vain attempt to curb his smile as he slowly looked up. In the corner of his eye, Harry caught the sight of his friends relaxing as they realized he wasn't upset, but he didn't dare look at them. Instead, he met his professor's eye.

"Sorry sir," Harry murmured.

Snape sneered, "Do you find something amusing, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "No sir."

"Then why," Snape growled, "the idiotic grin?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "I'm happy, sir."

Somebody snickered and Snape glowered, "Happy? To be in _my_ class?"

Harry hastily opened his mouth to deny it, but saw the folly in saying that. His mouth snapped shut again. Snape's glare ratcheted up a notch, and Harry ventured a different answer.

"Sorry sir," Harry let his hand flutter to his abdomen in a subtle sign he was sure Snape would understand. He just hoped the man would respect his privacy, "I'm just happy."

Snape's eyes flickered briefly as he caught Harry's gesture and he coldly regarded the boy for a long moment. Harry shifted uncomfortably and Snape nodded decisively as though he had seen what he had been looking for. Turning on his heel, he stalked to his podium, "Detention with me, Friday night Potter. Eight o'clock. Do not be late."

Harry nodded and his grin finally broke lose. Snape looked up to find him still standing in the middle of the aisle.

"Well? Don't just stand there looking gormless! Get to your seat!"

Harry tamed his smile and turned to take a seat. Suspiciously, the only empty one was between Blaise and Hermione. Harry glanced askance at them. Usually, the two girls sat next to their boyfriends in Potions. The again, it was hardly surprising that the pair should chose to change their sitting arrangement for this lesson; the others had all known that Harry had planned on finding out the gender of his baby today.

Harry settled himself between the girls, but before either of them could ask anything, Snape resumed the lecture Harry's entrance had interrupted. But neither Blaise, nor even Hermione were paying attention to the professor; they both kept on sneaking glance in Harry's direction. At the bench in front of them, Ron, Dean and Draco kept shifting about impatiently.

Eventually, Snape dismissed the class to collect their ingredients, and underneath the cover of the general hubbub, Blaise hissed, "So?"

Harry just shook his head and indicated he talk once they were ready to start the potion. Hermione immediately jumped up and hurried over to the ingredients cupboard to gather what was required. By the time she was back, Blaise had set out all their equipment, and they – Draco, Dean and Ron included – all turned to Harry expectantly.

The devil on Harry's shoulder made him ignore them all as he opened his text and started to prepare the ground bicorn horn. Shortly, Blaise got tired of waiting again.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Harry asked innocently.

"Harry!" Hermione huffed and lowered her voice to a whisper, "What gender is your baby?"

Harry's smile stretched across his face as he set down his mortar and pestle. He grinned slyly at Hermione and poked her gently in the stomach. She looked at him in confusion for a moment then she squealed happily, and clapped her hands.

"A girl?" she shrieked under her breath, "You're having a girl?"

Before Harry could respond, Snape swept down on them, "Mr. Potter. You seem to have a singular talent for disrupting my class," he snarled, ignoring the fact that it had been Hermione who had squealed. "What is it _this_ time?"

"Nothing sir," Harry muttered, and focused on julienning his horned slugs.

"It was my fault sir," Hermione interrupted, "Harry just told me why he was so happy."

"Indeed," said Snape coldly, "And would you care to share the news with the _rest_ of the class?"

Hermione's mouth snapped shut and she flushed guiltily, "No sir. It's private."

"I see," Snape stared down his nose at Harry and Hermione, "Then I suggest you discuss it _privately_ and _not_ in my classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor." He turned on his heel and swept back up the aisle.

Next to him, Blaise whispered sotto voce, "So it's girl, Harry?" and Harry was quickly distracted as Ron, Dean and Draco edged backwards to hear his answer. Hermione was the only one that noticed Snape's stride falter briefly at Blaise's question, before he strode on. Hermione dismissed it as her imagination as she was drawn into her friends' conversation.

"Yes," Harry murmured, "I'm going to have a daughter."

His friends could hear how ecstatic Harry was at the prospect and they smiled.

"So you wanted a girl?" Ron whispered out to corner of his mouth.

Harry shook his head, but not in denial, "I didn't really care. I would have loved to have son just as much. But now I know she's a girl…" he grinned again.

"You were gone an awfully long time," Hermione hazarded, "There's not anything wrong is there?"

"No!" Harry hastily denied, "No, it was just stupid hormones."

The other boys snorted with laughter, unfortunately attracting Snape's attention.

"That's it!" he snapped," Potter! Front desk, immediately! You now have detention _next_ Friday as well. The rest of you, five points off each."

He folded his arms and glared at the sextet as Harry meekly gathered his things and moved them to the front desk. His friends cast he sympathetic glances, while around them, the rest of the class worked studiously.

Had it been any other day, Harry would have scowled sullenly at being moved, but as it was he was just too happy today to let Snape's unfairness get to him. Instead, he calmly set out his ingredients and equipment, and went back to preparing the syllabus potion. As he cut, sliced, mashed, mixed and stirred according to the instructions, Harry let his mind wander to his baby daughter. Now that he knew she was girl, he could begin to fill in the details in his imagined life with her. He found himself decorating her bedroom and planning her first birthday. He had something more concrete to imagine now; himself and his baby daughter. Who, as yet, had no name. Harry began to run through all the girls' names he knew as he picked up the vial of Runespoor venom.

His hand was slammed back down on the desk. Angry hands clawed the small vial from his own.

"Potter," an irate voice hissed in his ear, "Did you not hear a word I said?"

Harry jumped, "Sorry sir?"

"I _said_, you dim-witted, foolhardy idiot, that the fumes from the Runespoor venom are harmful to smaller creatures, such as human infants, _including those still in the womb_. If you wish to kill your child, then that's fine by me, but you _will not_ do it on my watch."

The blood drained dramatically from Harry's face and his hands took on a violent tremor. He hadn't been listening to Snape's lecture. He'd been relying on Hermione to know what to do, and it could have cost him his daughter. He stepped hastily away from the bench and ran into Snape's chest. Snape stiffened, but at first he didn't move and Harry was tempted to rest his weight on him. Then Snape moved away and raised his voice, speaking with no inflection at all.

"You're a foolish boy, Potter. Get out of my classroom."

Harry hurriedly gathered up his books and left the classroom on shaky legs.

Blaise was the first to find him, two hours later, in the library where he'd holed up. She sat down beside, moving a pile of books so she could see his face. Still somewhat pale-faced, Harry blinked at her then went back to staring blankly at the same page as he had for the last half hour. Blaise sat quietly by him for almost five minutes before she became impatient.

"Harry?" she said hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

Harry looked at her again. He sighed and pushed his book away, "Yeah, I'm okay, Blaise."

The Slytherin girl glanced around cautiously, "What happened in Potions today? One moment you were making your potion, the next Snape was kicking you out of the classroom."

Harry looked down at the table, picking intently at the graffiti there, "I was an idiot."

Blaise snorted, "You're always an idiot," she said with no malice, "What happened?"

Harry rubbed his thumb over a scratch in the table's surface and turned his head away from Blaise, "I didn't listen when Snape said the fumes of Runespoor venom were harmful to babies."

"Oh, Harry," Blaise sounded unusually sympathetic. She covered Harry's nervously picking hand with her own, "It was a mistake. Anybody could have made it. And Snape stopped you, right?"

Harry nodded, and Blaise awkwardly patted his hand, "See? So it's alright."

Harry wrenched his hand back, "No it's _not_ alright, Blaise!" Blaise jerked back in surprise. Harry rarely raised his voice. "I could have killed her! She doesn't even have a name yet, and because I'm a self-centered git who never listens I could have _killed her!_ My own baby!"

There came a soft gasp behind them and a startled "Harry?"

Harry and Blaise spun around and came face to face with a shocked looking Neville and Ginny.

"Oh shit," Blaise whispered, and Harry whole-heartedly agreed. 

Ginny had one hand over her mouth, and her brown eyes were wide above it. "You have a baby?" she squeaked into her palm.

Blaise stood up, "Look Weasley, I've told you before to keep your little nose out of our business. That includes not eavesdropping on our conversations."

Ginny's eyes lit up with anger and her hand dropped to her hip, "I wasn't speaking to _you_. I was talking to _Harry_, and last time I checked, you weren't in control of his life _too._" Ginny and Blaise _did not_ get along, and Ron was the ground they fought over. Ginny thought Blaise tried to control his life, and Blaise believed Ginny was jealous that a Slytherin could be such close friends with her brother and his best friends. Which probably wasn't far from the mark. "Besides, it's not like we meant to overhear. Harry was practically shouting."

Blaise folded her arms and sneered, "The fact the remains, Blue, you _were_ eavesdropping, and –"

Harry stopped her with a hand on her arm, "Blaise, it doesn't matter." As much as he didn't like to admit it, it _was_ his fault his two housemates had overheard. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted them to know just yet, but, while he knew Neville would respect his privacy, he wasn't sure he could say the same for Ginny if he didn't tell her now. "I have to tell everyone sooner or later. I might as well start here."

Harry ignored Blaise's aborted sound of protest and gestured for Neville and Ginny to sit with them, "I don't have a baby yet."

"Yet?" Ginny pounced on the word, "So you're going to have a baby?"

Harry couldn't help smiling, "Yeah. My little girl will be here around Easter."

"So that's why Mum said we should stay here for Easter!" Ginny exclaimed in realization. Then her face darkened, "She's known all along, hasn't she? And you didn't tell me."

"Harry doesn't have to tell you anything, Blue," Blaise snapped, but Harry shushed her. Through all this, Neville sat quietly, watching Harry.

"I didn't want many people to know, Ginny. I told Blaise and Ron and the others because they're my best friends. I told Dumbledore because, well, I had to, didn't I? He made me tell Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur, and the House Heads. And – besides Sirius – that's everyone that knows."

Ginny still looked mutinous, but she nodded. Then her face crumpled in a frown, " But I thought you were gay."

Harry blinked in confusion, "I am."

"But then, how'd _you_ get a girl pregnant?"

Next to him, Blaise laughed. Harry elbowed her in the side and turned to Ginny.

"Ginny, I didn't get a girl pregnant…"

Ginny said, quite eloquently, "Huh?" and Blaise laughed again. Harry sighed.

"It's you," Neville said quietly, "isn't it? You're pregnant."

Ginny's head snapped around so quickly Harry was sure she'd get whiplash. Her expression was gobsmacked. The idea had obviously not occurred to her. Harry ignored her expression, though beside him Blaise snickered again.

"Yeah," he said to Neville, a wry grin on his face, "I'm pregnant. But I don't want everybody to know just yet, so please don't say anything?"

Neville just stared at him for a moment, before a small smile flitted across and he nodded, "Okay Harry. On one condition."

Harry frowned, "What?"

Neville smiled broadly, "I want to be there when you tell the rest of the school."

Harry and Blaise laughed.

AN: Not sure what I've done to Ginny. And where that feud thing between her and Blaise came form, I don't know. I hope it didn't make you all hate Blaise, because I quite like her. And before any of you ask, no, Neville doesn't know anything. I just happen to like Neville, so I made him more observant and self-possessed.

I originally had more of this chapter. I had Harry telling Hagrid and then the rest of the school, but the chapter just wasn't working. I've already re-written what there is of this chapter. And I think I'm going to rearrange the time-line a little too. Annnyway, hope you liked the chapter. I don't. Except for the Runespoor part. *grins*


	10. Chapter Ten

AN: I'm actually quite happy with this chapter. Not the first part... But the second part, definitely.

Oh, one note? The whole Blaise calling Ginny Blue thing? That's Australian slang. We have a habit of giving people nicknames that are the opposite of them. If they're quiet, we call 'em Rowdy. If they're short, we call 'em Long. If they have red hair, we call 'em Blue. ;)

Wintermoon2: And to think I didn't like that chapter... *grins*

Alyce: *loves her runespoor bit* Maybe I can make your day again. And I might even follow it up with an email. And in a couple of weeks, T-SHIRTS!

Ashes7: *L* As confusing as that was, I agree. And I'm glad you find my story to be such a one.

Corgi1: Heh. And here I thought I might have gone a little over the top with my Ginny. ;)

Crissy: Blue. As in the opposite of red.

Lucied: I like Neville too. And even though he won't be a main character, there will be more of him.

Mikee: *hugs* I love Harry/Snape interaction. It's so much fun. That said, I think you will like this chpater...

Kana-chan: Thanks for the suggestions. I might even use some of them. *grins*

Maximum Poofy-Pissed Off Queen: *cuddles her Snape* I adore Sevvy! He's so much fun to write!

Kateri1: Ah-ah! *shakes finger* Not answering any questions. You'll just have to wait and see.

Leeanna-Marie-Mafloy: Isn't he? ;) 

Fuires: You know, I prefer baby boys. *shrugs*

Stella by Starlight: *grins and curtsies* Why thank you.

Pixyfairy120: I always try to update quickly, but it never seems to work.

Kitty: Again, I won't answer any questions. *grins*

Kristen: *swipes brow* I thought the feud think might be a little random...

Neat: o.O *falls off chair* Now _that's_ what I call a review! Anywho, I think I'll thank you profusely when I email you. *hugs*

Coriander: You know, I can't actually remember what pairing it's saved under... *shrugs* You're adding it to your favs? _It's one of frizzy's favs?_ *faints* 

Saavik13: Heh. Mayhaps something goes wrong with the birth. But Harry'll be able to do the naming ceremony, don't worry about that.

KittenBabyGirl: You're expecting? Congratulations! If I remember, I shall dedicate the birht chapter to you. If I don't, take it that the chapter is dedicated to you, anyway. *grins*

Ayame: Don't apologise. I can fully understand. Besides, I'm far worse than you... ;)

Venus4280: Wow. Thank you. Erm... unfortunately, nothing of significance happens in the first detention. It passes unnoticed really... But the second... ^_~

Draconnis: Snape is being... well, _Snape_. And that's all the answer you'll get out of me...

Tirla: Luckily for you, the update isn't long in coming. I know how uncomfortable those corners can get.

Chapter Ten:

Harry didn't go to dinner that night. Not even Hermione's threats could move him. He sat in the window of the dorm as Ron finally convinced Hermione to leave him be and she slowly followed the redhead from the room. After the events of the day, Harry simply had little appetite. And even if he did get hungry later, Harry knew Hermione was likely to smuggle something back into the Tower for him.

Blaise had told the others that Neville and Ginny now knew, and Harry hadn't even tried to stop Draco when he'd made dire threats of retribution if the pair let anything slip; he'd simply been too caught up in his own thoughts. His friends soon figured it was futile to try and get him to pay attention to them, and after that, they left him alone.

It had been too easy for Ginny and Neville to find out about his daughter. All it had taken was an ill-placed outburst from Harry and he was found out. If it hadn't been two of his friends, if it had been one of the more spiteful Slytherins – or even someone like Seamus who couldn't keep his mouth closed if you paid him – Harry's secret would have been all over the school within the hour. Worse, had it been one of the loyal death-eater children, Voldemort would have been informed, and Harry would have had no idea.

Then there was Harry's near mishap with the Runespoor venom. Until that point, he hadn't really taken the vulnerability of his child seriously. He was a teenage boy. What did he really know of the dangers of pregnancies? And why had no told him that simply _smelling_ something could harm his child?

And he _knew_ he was pregnant. What if someone cast a spell on him without knowing he was pregnant? He could lose her, and there would be nothing he could do about it. All because less than a score of people knew to be cautious around him.

He simply didn't know what to do.

Harry spent the rest of the week worrying over it all. On Friday night, before his detention, Harry wrapped himself in his invisibility cloak and went to visit his first friend; Hagrid. No matter what else he decided Harry believed he owed it to the loyal half-giant to tell him now. He already felt guilty for keeping it from him for so long.

Before Harry could even knock, Hagrid's boarhound Fang began baying excitedly and Hagrid rumbled, "What is i', boy?"

Harry rapped on the harsh wood of the door and dropped the hood of his cloak.

The door swung open, and Hagrid's huge form filled the frame, appearing even larger in silhouette, "Oh, 'ello Harry. What're ye doing down here at nigh'?"

"Hello Hagrid," Harry said, "I needed to talk to you."

"Oh," Hagrid said, a little miffed at Harry's earnestness, "Oh, well come in then. Don' stand around out in the cold." He stepped back and held the door open for Harry to enter. The moment Harry did, Fang barreled into him, trying to lick his face in greeting. Hagrid hauled him off.

"Thas enough, Fang. Leave 'Arry alone."

Fang whined but obeyed Hagrid, returning to his nest of blankets by the fire. Harry gratefully followed Hagrid to the table, taking a seat as the half-giant poured huge cups of tea for them both.

"Now," said Hagrid, as he set down the battered teapot and pushed one of the mugs towards Harry, "what did yer want ter tell me?"

Harry fidgeted with the mug and looked up at the huge man standing over him. For all Hagrid's great size, Harry had never felt intimidated by this man; he was simply too gentle. He smiled gamely up at him, "I'm pregnant."

Hagrid's mug crashed to the floor, eliciting a startled yelp from Fang. Harry flinched.

"What did yer say, Harry?" Hagrid asked hoarsely.

Harry opened his robe and removed the glamour charm on his belly. "I'm pregnant," he repeated, smiling tentatively.

Harry was alarmed to see Hagrid's eyes filling up with tears, and the next thing he knew, Hagrid had enveloped him in a surprisingly gentle hug and was sobbing. Harry was worried until he began to understand what Hagrid was saying through his sobs.

"Thas wonderful, 'Arry," he howled, "Yer goin' ter be a daddy. Ye'll have a beautiful lil' bubby ter love." Harry blinked and awkwardly patted the huge back.

Finally, Hagrid drew back and fetched a handkerchief to mop his face, "Sorry 'bout that Harry. It's just that I'm so happy for yer."

Harry smiled, genuinely happy now, "That's okay Hagrid. I reacted the same way when I realised."

Hagrid's teeth flashed through his beard as he smiled broadly back at Harry, "I imagine yer would have," Hagrid poured himself a new cup of tea and sat down across from Harry.

"Have yer found out what yer baby'll be yet?" he wanted to know.

Harry's face lit up. There was nothing he loved more than talking about his daughter, "She's a girl," he promptly replied, "I found out on Wednesday."

"So yer wouldn't have chosen a name yet, then?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "I really haven't even thought about it yet. Madam Pomfery and Hermione have given me books of names to look through, but…" he trailed off.

Hagrid patted his shoulder heavily, "Don'cher worry about tha'. She's not due for a while yet, righ'?"

Harry shook his head again, "Not until Easter."

"There, you see? Plenty a time. You'll have the right name afore then."

Harry smiled and looked down at his hands, "Hagrid?" he said softly, "Would you attend the Naming Ceremony?"

Hagrid beamed and dragged Harry into a one armed hug, "I'd be honoured, 'Arry."

Harry smiled and wiped discretely at the corner of his eye. He and his huge friend spent the rest of the time before Harry had to leave for detention discussing the pregnancy so far, and how much they were looking forward to meeting Harry's daughter.

It was only as Harry was heading down into the dungeons for his detention that Harry realised that Hagrid hadn't made any mention of the baby's other father. He was the only Harry had told that hadn't wanted to know. Even Neville had been interested in the answer when Ginny asked.

Even after his talk with Hagrid, after Harry had willing told someone new, he was still unsure where it left him. He was still fretting over the vulnerability of his secret and, by extension, the danger he was putting his daughter in from unwitting run-ins with those who did not know. He weighed it against the danger of revealing that he was pregnant, and consequently showing Voldemort a weakness he could pray upon.

But what if Voldemort found out some other way? What if he found out and Harry didn't know? He wouldn't know to take even more precautions then he already was. Wouldn't it better to _know_ that Voldemort knew, just so he could be prepared? Besides, Dumbledore had already told him that the school's wards were being closely monitored and all unknown intrusions investigated. And it wasn't like his friends would let him go anywhere by himself. If he was outside the castle grounds, there were always at least two of them there, hands hovering over wands.

These thoughts distracted him on Saturday morning as he and his friends lounged about Hermione's Head Girl rooms. Harry occupied the only armchair in the room, his legs slung over one arm. He was staring blankly out the window, barely following the conversation of the others. He really needed to decide what do to before too much longer.

Ron, who was leaning against Harry's chair, thumped his friend's leg, "Oi, Harry! Are you even listening to me?"

Without really removing his eyes from the distant view through the window, Harry turned his head slightly and said, "Hmm?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "I asked you if you'd thought of any names for your daughter yet?"

"Oh," Harry blinked slowly.

Moments later, Hermione sighed impatiently, "_Well?_"

In a soft and distracted tone of voice Harry said, "I was thinking of calling her Gretel."

There was a short silence. Then Draco laughed and Harry turned his head to stare distantly in his direction, "No? What about Marta, then?"

Dean coughed and Blaise cleared her throat disapprovingly. Harry blinked, and his eyes focused more closely on his friends, "Brigitta?"

Hermione snorted.

"What about Lousia?" Harry tried, and Dean laughed while Hermione hid her face in Draco's shoulder. Harry smirked at them.

"Well, if you don't like any of those, there's always –"

"_Leisl!_" Hermione and Dean chorused with him, before all three of them collapsed into laughter. Ron, Draco and Blaise stared at the three of them as though they'd gone crazy.

Dean caught their expressions and gasped, "The Sound of Music," as though that should explain everything. Which, of course, it didn't; not to three purebloods.

"It's a movie," Hermione giggled, "Harry was using the names of the girls in it."

When the three wizard-borns simply to continued stare blankly at her, she just shook her head, but her laughter began to die. And so did Harry's and Dean's. After the last chuckle had faded away, the six of them sat in companionable silence for a moment. And in that moment, Harry finally came to a decision. It was time to let the rest of the wizarding world find out. Really, it was the lesser of the two evils.

He swung his legs off the arm of the chair and sat forward abruptly, "I'm going to tell them."

The reaction from Hermione, Dean and Ron was immediate, _"What?_ Harry! No!"

Hermione pulled away from Draco and sat forward, "Harry, you can't do that so soon. Just think of the danger you'll be putting yourself in."

"Yeah," Ron put it in, twisting around to kneel facing Harry, "And can you imagine how they're all going to react to this?"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said sourly, "I imagine it won't be much different from when they thought I was the Heir of Slytherin. Or when they thought I cheated to get into the Triwizard Tournament. Or when they found out I was gay." Harry shook his head. "I've thought about this, and I don't really care what they think. Besides, it's for the best."

"How can you think that?" Hermione's voice rose sharply.

"Think about it, Hermione," Blaise spoke up, "There's going to be an uproar when everybody finds out about the baby. Its better that it happens now instead of after the baby's born and Harry's trying to look after her _and_ deal with the press and public."

Her protest effectively encountered, Hermione subsided briefly, but Ron took up the argument, "But what about Voldemort? You know you're much more vulnerable because of the pregnancy, and if you tell everyone, Voldemort's going to know it too. You think he'd pass up an opportunity like that?"

"You're not thinking like a Slytherin, Ron," Draco said, "How long do you think Harry's secret would have lasted after he was set up in his new apartment anyway? And we wouldn't know if Voldemort found out. We'd have no warning. At least, if Harry tells everyone now, he's taking away Voldemort's element of surprise."

Harry smiled weakly at his Slytherin friends. Trust them to understand his reasoning. He turned to his housemates, "Guys, please don't try to talk me out of this. I really think it's the best thing to do under the circumstances. And trust me, I've thought long and hard about it all. Do you really think I'd do something to jeopardize the safety of my daughter?"

Dean dragged his chair closer to Harry's and covered the pregnant boy's tightly clenched hand with his own, "As long as you're sure Harry. We'll support you."

Harry cast the other boy a grateful look. Draco cleared his throat and recaptured Harry's attention.

"So," he said slyly, "have you decided how you're going to let them know yet?"

"No," Harry replied cautiously, not trusting Draco's expression, "Why?"

Draco smirked.

Harry could feel the eyes on him. It made it hard to concentrate on what Ginny was saying to him. He glanced across the common room to where a group of first and second years were trying to be inconspicuous as they stared at him. Harry was _trying_ not to glare at them. Hermione touched his arm and brought his attention back to the conversation.

"Have you even looked at those Naming Ceremony guides I gave you yet, Harry?"

Harry shifted guiltily, "No. But there's plenty of time yet."

"Plenty of time!" Ginny and Hermione said in unison, indignant.

"Harry," Ginny went on, "there's only two months left."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Hermione forestalled him, "And what if she's premature? It's not like you'll have time to learn the ceremony later."

Harry sighed and conceded the point. He ran his hand over his protruding belly.

"Okay, Hermione. I promise I'll look at them tonight after dinner. Is that soon enough?" He added a little snidely. But Hermione was on a roll, and she took it in her stride.

"Good. And you have to start seriously thinking about names too. You don't want to end up calling her Mary-Sue because you couldn't think of anything else at the last moment, do you?"

Harry snorted with laughter and Hermione paused to frown at him. Ginny immediately took up the thread.

"And I bet you haven't even thought about all the essentials you'll need to care for her yet, have you?"

Harry blinked. It was true. He hadn't given any thought to what he'd be needing care for his daughter once she was born. Ginny read the answer in his face and threw up her hands, "Men! Well, me and Hermione will just have to take you shopping. I'll make up a list and – What? What is it?" Ginny interrupted herself as Harry gasped sharply and clutched his stomach.

He shook his head, "Nothing. She just gave a particularly vicious kick."

Ginny's eyes lit up, "Really? Is she still moving? Can I feel her?"

Harry nodded, and picking up Ginny's hand, he placed it over the fluttering movement of his unborn baby. Ginny concentrated hard on her hand, her smile fading, but when she felt the soft undulations under her hand it reappeared, brighter than before. "Wow. That's so cool."

This was Draco's brilliant idea: Harry should simply desist with the concealing charms and they would all start treating the secret like it wasn't one at all. Harry, Ginny, and Hermione, and their conversation in the common room were the first phase of the plan. And it was working too. It wasn't only the first and second years that were staring at Harry; they were just the least discrete about it. Fortunately, besides the three on the couch and Ron and Dean playing chess by the window, there was no one above fourth year in the room. The lower years were too in awe of Harry to simply come out and ask him anything directly. Which suited the plan just fine for the moment. The idea was to get the rumour mill pumping furiously before anyone actually decided to go to the source.

Harry looked up as the portrait swung open and Seamus bounced in, followed more sedately by Neville. Seamus spotted the trio on the couch and headed over.

"Woah," Seamus paused in front of the couch, his eyes coming to rest on Harry's form, "You really shouldn't have given up quidditch, Harry." Seamus bent and poked Harry in the stomach, "You're getting downright _pudgy_."

Hermione and Ginny flinched and leaned away from Harry. Ron and Dean looked up at Seamus's words and blanched. Neville smiled in anticipation and moved closer to catch Harry's reaction. Harry… Harry turned red in face and stood up quickly, jerking his robes closed over his belly.

"I am _not_," he snapped, "_FAT!_"

With the last explosive word, Harry shoved Seamus hard in the chest causing the Irish boy to fall backwards over a coffee table. Harry kicked him in the shin and stormed out of the common room. Hermione, Ginny and Dean immediately jumped up and ran after him.

Seamus clambered slowly to his feet, looking thoroughly bewildered. He looked up to find Ron and Neville grinning at him.

"What's wrong with him?" Seamus whined, "Was it something I said?"

Neville laughed and Ron shook his head, "You shouldn't have called him fat."

Ron turned and headed for the portrait hole. Seamus looked pleadingly at Neville, "But it's true!"

Neville shrugged, "So? You still should have known better than to call him fat." Seamus had two older sisters who both had children.

"Are you coming, Neville?" Ron called and Neville shot Seamus one last grin before leaving after Ron.

Harry stormed down the school's corridors, not caring where he was headed.

"I don't like your plan," he yelled at Draco as he stomped past him, "It's a _stupid_ plan."

Draco stopped in his tracks, surprised at the unprovoked attack.

"Seamus called him fat," Hermione explained as she and Ginny paused by the Slytherin. Dean hurried past them, still trying to catch up with Harry.

"Oh," Draco winced in sympathy for the likely wounded Irish boy. "I take it he hasn't figured out that Harry's pregnant, then."

"Nope," Ginny smiled, "But as I hear it, that didn't stop _you_."

Draco scowled at her, "Who told you that?"

"Harry did," Ron said, joining the group with Neville, "And stop trying to scare my little sister, Draco."

Draco sneered at Ron, but there was no venom in it. Still, Hermione hit him anyway.

"Stop provoking Ron, Draco," she said, "Besides, wouldn't you like to know how the 'first phase' of your plan went?"

Two corridors and a flight of stairs later, Harry calmed down. He couldn't help feeling a little guilty about shoving and kicking Seamus, but well… he'd called Harry _fat!_ He wasn't _fat_, he was pregnant. Didn't that idiot know the difference? Harry kicked the wall and scowled when he stubbed his toe.

Then again, there _was_ the fact that Seamus didn't actually _know_ that Harry was pregnant. That, and Harry had been eating an abnormal amount of food recently. But Harry couldn't help it if he was eating for two now! Speaking of which…

Harry suddenly had a craving for apple and cinnamon toast. He turned and retreated back down the corridor to a tapestry he knew concealed the entrance to a shortcut to the kitchen corridor.

Half an hour later, Harry emerged from the kitchen with half-eaten piece of honey toast cradled in his hand. Not eager to return the common room with all its curious stares, Harry slowly headed up towards the Entrance Hall. Harry bit into his toast and the warmed honey spilled and ran down his fingers and pooled in the palm of his hand. Harry grimaced and crammed the rest of the toast into his mouth before any more of the honey could spill.

Chewing determinedly on his mouthful, Harry continued down the corridor. He'd just swallowed the last of the toast and had started licking up the mess of honey on his hand when he reached the stairs. Sucking a sticky finger into his mouth, Harry started up them.

He paused as his eyes came level with a pair of black boots. Harry removed his now clean middle finger from his mouth and replaced it with his index finger as he traced up the legs those boots belonged too. He'd just reached the thighs when horribly familiar robes swept around to shield them from his eyes. Harry froze and his gaze darted up to the face of the person on the stairs.

Professor Snape was glaring hotly down at him.

"Potter," he sneered, "I can't imagine you have anything better than a weak excuse for that… positively _indecent_ display. As such, I don't wish to hear it. Get out of my sight."

Harry realised he was still standing there with his sticky finger in his mouth. His face went bright red and he hastily ripped the finger from his mouth, and wiping it on his robes, he sped up the stairs past the Potions Master. He hadn't made it further than two risers when he tripped on the hem of his open robes and began to fall.

His eyes snapped shut and one arm instinctively wrapped about his waist, the other shooting out in a vain attempt to break his fall. And all he could think was that none of his friends were there to break his fall this time.

There was a sudden scuffling of feet on the stairs and a pair of hands wrapped around Harry's shoulders, halting his fall and cradling him until he found his balance again. Harry let out a shaky breath of relief and slowly opened his eyes. He looked up into Snape's pale face. Something like relief flickered in the depths of his eyes. Harry's own widened at that and Snape sneered, and looked away. Harry turned his head too.

"Thanks Dean," he whispered and Dean nodded but didn't release Harry's shoulders. Instead, he stepped up onto the same step as Harry, tucking the shorter boy under his arm. Snape's hands flexed as though tempted to grasp his wand.

"I thought I told you to get out of my sight, Potter," he snapped. Without waiting for an answer, he gathered up his robes and stalked down the stairs into the dungeons.

"Greasy git," Dean muttered as he and Harry continued up the stairs, "What's he got against you?"

Harry shrugged. He didn't want to dwell on Snape's somewhat erratic attitude towards him.

"What were you doing in the dungeons anyway?" he asked instead.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you were okay after Seamus was such an insensitive prick. Although, your reaction was worth it."

Harry elbowed Dean in the ribs, "It's not funny!"

Dean laughed, "You didn't see Seamus's face after you stormed out."

Sunday was spent 'touring the school' as Blaise put it. For this, Draco had dressed Harry in one of his own tight-fitting turtleneck sweaters. In the morning, whispers were following Harry through the halls and Ginny reported that the hottest rumour was that Harry had been hit with a bloating hex. By lunch, people were doubling back in the halls just to pass Harry again, and the gossip went that Harry had a horrible tumour.

It was only as evening fell that one of the Ravenclaws, after having spoken with a Gryffindor that had been present in the common room the afternoon before, struck upon the truth. The latest theory spread like wildfire through the school, and as Harry and his friends made their way to the Great Hall for dinner, it seemed like every student in the school had contrived to _coincidently_ be somewhere along their route.

Harry wished they'd all stop staring at him and his exposed gravid form, but he knew this was just a foretaste of what it would be like once the rumour was confirmed. Harry sighed as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione whispered, "Someone's bound to get up the courage to ask soon."

"Oh yeah, and like that'll be the end of it," Harry snapped. Hermione shot him a slightly wounded look and Harry sighed again, "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just…"

"Don't worry about it," Hermione shrugged off his apology. She reached for a bowl of spinach that had appeared on the table and raised her voice, "Here, Harry, have some spinach."

Harry grimaced and pushed the bowl away from him, "No, I –"

Hermione glared at him, "Harry James Potter, you will eat the spinach. It has lots of iron in it and Madam Pomfery says that you need it. And so does your b–"

"Fine!" Harry snatched the bowl from her, "I'll the damn spinach." Harry turned back to his plate to find it full of red meat and green vegetables. Blaise smiled innocently at him from his other side. Harry sighed and served himself a portion of spinach. He scowled across the table at Draco.

"This is all your fault, you know," he accused.

"Mine?" Draco looked genuinely surprised.

"Yes," Harry muttered reaching for the Worcestershire sauce and honey pot, "It's your plan. And now Hermione and Blaise think they have free rein to bully me into eating what they want."

Draco smirked, "They were doing that anyway. And besides, _you_ are the one that wanted to tell everyone."

Harry sniffed, "That's utterly beside the point."

Finally, as desserts replaced the remains of dinner on the table, Colin Creevey finally got up the courage to ask Harry the question that everybody dearly wanted know the answer to.

"Hey Harry," he said, leaning forward to talk around Ginny, Ron and Blaise, "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Harry asked pouring Worcestershire sauce over his chocolate icecream.

"The rumours. Is it true what they say?"

"And what do the rumours say? Harry can hardly tell you if it's true if he doesn't know what you're talking about!" Blaise snapped.

Ginny bristled in her friend's defense, "Of _course_ Harry knows what Colin means, Zabini."

Blaise examined her nails minutely, "You really need to figure out when someone's not talking to you, Blue."

Ron slapped his hand over Ginny's mouth before she could retort. "Stop it you two. Colin was trying to talk to Har-REE." Ron yelped when Ginny bit his palm. He ripped his hand away and rubbed it on his leg, "Blaise is right. You can be vicious sometimes, Gin."

"Oh sure," Ginny muttered, folding her arms over her chest, "Take _her_ side."

"Er, right," said Colin, "Anyway. Harry, Dennis said that you and Gin and Hermione were talking about Naming Ceremonies yesterday, and today people have been saying that you're… well, pregnant. Is that even possible?"

Harry addressed himself to his bowl of icecream, "What makes 'em think I'm pregnant?"

Colin fidgeted, "Well, you've been going around all weekend talking about baby things and then there's the fact that you've suddenly…"

Harry looked up sharply and narrowed his eyes at Colin, "Yes? I've suddenly?"

Oblivious to his danger, Colin gestured towards Harry's midsection, "You've suddenly gotten _f_–"

"Don't say it!" Ron and Ginny implored in unison.

Colin jumped, startled by the siblings' entreaty.

__

"I'm not fat!" Harry half-shouted, thumping the table and making the crockery jump. "I'm just pregnant," He continued in a more normal tone.

Colin's eyes bugged out of his head. "So it's true?" he squeaked loudly, "You really are _PREGNANT?_"

The last word was shouted and Harry winced as _everybody_ in the Hall turned to stare first at Colin, and then at Harry.

"Yes, I'm pregnant. Do you have a problem with that? " Harry said, his voice carrying clearly in the utter silence of the Hall.

There was a heavy scrape from the front of the hall. Heads snapped around to see Dumbledore standing and raising his mug.

"Let me be the first, Harry, to congratulate you on your impending… er, _father_hood."

Harry smiled gratefully at the headmaster and Dumbledore winked at him. Then, like a wave breaking, the silence shattered and voices surged through the room. But Harry was still watching the head table. Professor McGonagall raised her glass to Harry as well. Down the table from her, Professor Flitwick was beaming proudly and telling anybody that would listen that he had known for months. Professor Sprout was comforting Hagrid, who had succumbed to happy tears again; Harry smiled brightly at him, and the half-giant beamed wetly back at him.

Madam Pomfery, who had the misfortune to be sitting next to Professor Trelawney on one of her rare ventures from the North Tower, was rolling her eyes as the Divination Professor declared that she had naturally known all along, but was worried for the child's health. The other professors were just as bewildered and loud as their students; wanting to know who had known and why they hadn't been told.

Except, of course, Professor Snape. The Potions' Master looked thoroughly disgusted with the entire situation. He met Harry's eye and sneered before throwing down his napkin and storming out of the hall. A hand landed on Harry's shoulder, pulling his attention from the empty doorway. He twisted around to see Dumbledore standing beside him.

The headmaster bent down and spoke in Harry's ear, "I shouldn't worry about Severus, Harry. Doubtless he's simply concerned about protecting you and your child from Voldemort now that you've chosen to let it be known that you are pregnant." Dumbledore squeezed Harry's shoulder comfortingly before he stood up again, "Now, shall we? I'm sure you don't want to stay here and be swamped by your classmates."

Harry nodded and stood up, frowning. Why should he be concerned over Snape's reaction? The greasy git had no say in anything when it came to his child. Harry rested a hand on his swollen belly and turned, still frowning, to follow Professor Dumbledore from the hall.

A/N: *glosses over the fact that Colin is muggleborn and probably knows nothing about Naming Ceremonies* It wouldn't have worked the way I wanted it to if I had to qualify Colin's knowledge, or use someone else. Sorry for my slip. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out. I know it's only a short one, but it didn't really seem right to add anything else at the end of it. And it's not perfect, but I decided to post now anyway, because if I didn't, you wouldn't see it for another six weeks. And I know how much I hate waiting for updates so… *shrugs* 

You'll notice that I also haven't answered the wonderful reviews from the last chapter. Sorry about that too. But my head is throbbing. Thank you all so much _for_ reviewing though.

Chapter Eleven:

It was almost anticlimactic in the end, that Voldemort should be defeated in so ignominious a manner. One would have thought that it should take more than a single pissed-off, hormonal and very pregnant Boy Who Lived. Such a tyrant was expected to be conquered on a bloody battlefield, with hundreds of exultant witnesses, after many days of combat.

So it almost seemed a letdown that the most notorious Dark Lord in living memory met his end one innocuous evening with only three men to bear witness. 

So it almost seemed a letdown that the most notorious Dark Lord in living memory met his end one innocuous evening with only two men to bear witness. 

The Wizarding world would still have been in the grip of his terror if Voldemort had just remembered two things: nobody likes to have their privacy invaded, and a mother will go to any lengths to protect her (or in this case – _his_) child.

Of course, Voldemort wasn't _dead_ by any means. The Dark Mark on Severus Snape's arm proved that. It's just that it's rather hard to be an evil mastermind without one. A mind, that is.

It happened the night of Harry's second detention with Snape; five days after he'd outed himself to the school. Surprisingly, the _Daily Prophet_ had only gotten wind of the story in time for Thursday's edition. And even more surprisingly, it seemed that none of the loyal Death Eater children remaining in the school had passed the news on to Voldemort. At least, that was the impression Harry got from Voldemort's mind. Harry was sitting in the Potions classroom at the time.

He idly scratched his forehead and glared sullenly at the Potion Master's bent head. It was hardly fair of the man to keep him here this late. Then again, Harry had never known Snape to be fair, especially not to him. But still! He knew Harry was pregnant, and needed all the rest he could get. Midnight was just too late for him anymore!

Only, it wasn't midnight. It was only ten, Harry knew as a clock in the professor's office chimed the hour. It felt later though. At the end of a long day, after a long week, all Harry desired was sleep. That is, if his unborn daughter would let him get any.

Ever since the rest of the school had found out about his pregnancy, many of the girls – and no few of the boys – wanted to feel his stomach whenever the baby moved. And, as if appreciative of the attention, she moved _a lot_. The other students didn't ask if they could touch him, either. They treated him and his swelling abdomen like a talisman, a Buddha belly. They seemed to think that this pregnancy must be good luck. If _Harry Potter_, the bane of the Dark Lord's existence, was brave enough to not only get pregnant, but let it be known, then surely it was safe for the rest of them? Surely Voldemort wasn't a threat to them..? And they needed to reassure themselves that it was real, that Harry Potter, their saviour was truly pregnant.

So they touched him at every opportunity. They repeatedly asked him what he was going to call her, when she was due, if they could hold her, if they could attend the Naming Ceremony…

Harry hated it. It was stifling, and intrusive, and it brought out his protective instincts. By the end of the week, he was ready to hex the next person that so much as looked like touching him without his permission.

Harry rubbed at his scar and wiped his hand on his robes. Ironically, the place he felt most at his ease was in the Potions classroom. Snape was the only professor who would _not _tolerate his class being interrupted to 'pander to the ego of a foolish boy'. When Snape had said that, effectively sending the students scurrying back to their seats, Harry had smiled gratefully at him. Snape had scowled back.

But Harry's lingering gratitude did nothing to make up for the unfairness of Snape keeping him here so late. It was _ten o'clock!_ Okay, so maybe that was his hormones talking, just a little. But still. Harry didn't have any homework he could be doing – he'd left all his books in his dorm – and Snape wouldn't let him scrub any of the cauldrons or sort the potions ingredients. He said he didn't trust Harry not to hurt himself or his baby. Harry sighed.

He rubbed at his scar again, and it was only when his fingertips came away red that he registered the growing pain there. He bit his lip and picked up the corner of his robe, using it to wipe the blood from his brow. He abandoned his stool to approach Snape's desk and ask permission to leave, and the pain, as though it had been awaiting acknowledgement, redoubled.

Harry stifled a soft moan, and started towards the professor's desk. But with each step, the pain increased, and by the fifth Harry's eyes were watering and his nails were carving red crescents into his palms. Finally, just in front of the desk, the pain increased dramatically in a lance that shot through his brain and brought him to his knees; quite literally as his vision blacked out and he stumbled.

Snape's head snapped up at the thud Harry made as he hit the ground. Seeing only the boy's head above the plane of his desk, Snape rose and rounded it. Harry crouched where he had fallen, his head bowed and his fisted hands braced forward of his knees.

"Potter," Snape snapped, "What are you doing?"

Harry didn't reply.

"Potter, answer me," Snape demanded, "Get up off the floor this instant!"

Harry again didn't respond, but instead let out a gasp, and a pain-filled groan. White static filled his eyes and his ears, and his head felt as though someone was driving red-hot needles through his temples. A particularly sharp spasm ripped through his head, and Harry distantly heard his glassed shatter as he knocked them off in his haste to bring his hands to his face. He clawed and pressed at his scalp in some vain attempt to release the pain that was building inside his brain, centering upon his scar. 

Cold hands pulled at his own, and Harry jerked away from them. There was a familiar voice calling his name, but it was drowned out by the one inside his head.

__

:Ah, Potter. My worthy _foe.:_ Harry shuddered as the cold, almost slimy voice insinuated itself into his mind.

"Voldemort," he growled. Abstractedly, he felt the cold hands spasm about his own, and a voice hissed, _"What?!"_

The voice in Harry's head snickered slyly, _:Your mind is stronger than I gave you credit for, Potter. Very few have been able to resist my legimency.:_ A lance of intense pain ran through Harry's mind and he whimpered.

:And here I'd been told you'd been neglecting your lessons. Tut tut,: Voldemort disapproved, :I shall have to punish that little birdie.:

Harry's lips drew back in a rictus, revealing teeth painted red with blood from a bitten tongue. Voldemort was playing with him. He knew Harry's mind was defenseless against him, and was tormenting him for the simple pleasure of it. Voldemort snickered again, and an almost caressing lash of pain twined itself around Harry's temples.

__

:Indeed.: Voldemort confirmed, as he followed Harry's thoughts, _:but that is neither here nor there…:_A cold line of pain ran down Harry's spine and settled just above his abdomen, _:I see for once the _Prophet_ does not lie. The Boy Who Lived is indeed _pregnant_.:_ Voldemort savoured the word.

Harry screamed. He dropped his hands from his still painfully throbbing head and clawed at the descending line of pain, trying to deny Voldemort any contact with his daughter. Voldemort laughed at his ineffectualness, and the pain spread tauntingly about his belly, _:It's rather ironic, don't you think? Harry Potter has been brought low by his own… proclivities.:_ Again came the almost-caress of a lash of pain, and Harry felt ill.

__

:I should be angry, you know. You've quite ruined what little use I had for you. But no matter. Your daughter will be more than satisfactory.:

A cold tendril of fear wrapped around Harry's heart. He choked back a scream of denial, and instead shot defiantly back at Voldemort: "And what would the _great_ Dark Lord want with a muggleborn child?"

__

:Muggleborn?: Voldemort sneered. There was a pause, and Harry felt the maniacal creature reaching out to feel his daughter's aura. Then Voldemort laughed triumphantly, _:I think not.:_ Harry didn't relax even minutely as Voldemort withdrew from the baby's aura. _:Your own power more than compensates for any… deficiencies of the father.:_

Harry felt for a second that Voldemort _knew_ the other father and took great pleasure and satisfaction from the knowledge.

__

:Oh, I do! I do_ know the father.:_ Voldemort confirmed gleefully, and Harry released the monster had wormed his way deeper into his mind than he had first thought. _:I believe I know him better than _you_, Potter. Although, under the circumstances, that isn't hard.:_ Voldemort probed deeply at Harry's mind and the Gryffindor screamed in agony.

"You know nothing of Jason," Harry gritted, his hands clawing at his head again.

__

:That's where you are wrong, my dear Potter,: and suddenly Voldemort took over control of Harry's mouth, _"I know _precisely_ who the whelp's father is. But it is not him I am interested in. I want the child."_

Voldemort plunged his influence down again, towards Harry's baby. He paused at the edges of her aura, and Harry could feel the tendrils of his consciousness obscenely caressing it. Harry stilled, fearing Voldemort's next actions.

Still in control of Harry's mouth, Voldemort mused tauntingly, _"I think I shall call her Carey. The Dark One. Or perhaps Circe, after that wonderfully evil and devilishly cruel witch."_

Harry gritted his teeth, "I'll never let you touch my baby. If I have to go through the nine circles of hell to stop you, I swear I will!"

Voldemort laughed cruelly. _"So passionate, Potter. No wonder your Jason couldn't resist you. I only hope you pass that charming trait on to your spawn."_

The Dark Lord brought his influence to bear more heavily upon the unborn child and hissed with anticipatory glee, _"You daughter will make me a _fine _consort. And it shall be _such fun _breaking her!" _Voldemort began to press against the protective magic about Harry's sub-reality womb.

Harry screamed in pure, unadulterated rage. He was not going to let this abomination harm his child. His daughter meant the world to him, and he'd happily spend all eternity in the deepest pits of hell if it meant he could save her.

Harry gathered his magic, and thrust it between his baby and the invading force that was Voldemort. Voldemort hissed in annoyance that Harry was daring to fight back and turned his power into a scythe, cutting through Harry's protections.

Harry gathered more of his magic, draining his own physical defenses. He threw it violently at Voldemort, and the fiend just laughed.

__

:You'll have to do better than that if you wish to stop me, Potter. One would almost think you didn't want_ to save your precious child.:_

Harry lacerated his throat with a scream and gathered together every last shred, every last _scintilla_ of power within himself and bombarded Voldemort with it. When that wasn't enough, he started searching outside himself for sources of energy. Bottles spontaneously shattered as Harry sapped the magic from their Unbreakable charms. Cupboards swung open as he drained the wards. Torches dimmed and sputtered out. Ink in books faded to shadows and the bindings of the books themselves unraveled.

Voldemort didn't laugh at Harry this time. He was too busy gathering power of his own, trying to regain the ground he had lost to Harry. But Harry ruthless, implacable in the defense of his daughter. He didn't just want to defeat Voldemort, he wanted to destroy him. Obliterate him completely, so he could never threaten Harry's daughter again.

Harry began to draw the magic from the stones of the dungeons themselves. Voldemort had been forced back from not only his daughter's aura, but from his mind as well. The Dark Lord tried to close off his own mind from Harry, but by force of the magic behind him, Harry pried it open, and channeled the raw magic in.

About him, the walls of the Potions classroom shuddered ominously, dust cascading from them. There was a crash in corridor outside, and cracks developed in the ceiling. Harry didn't notice any of this. He kept on drawing power from his surroundings, kept forcing it down the link between his mind and Voldemort's.

The cold hands were back, trying to drag Harry to his feet. But Harry felt anchored to the stone he drew so heavily from. He couldn't move. He refused to move until he'd done it; destroyed Voldemort utterly. Harry latched on to the new power source, siphoning the magic from the living being that tried so desperately to move him.

Crinkled, warm and soft hands joined the cold ones already on him, and Harry distantly heard voices shouting. He ignored them and began to drain the power from this newest source. That well was deep, and the magic burned its way through him and into Voldemort.

At Voldemort's scream of agony of, Harry snarled triumphantly and reached for more magic, more life. There were four clusters of life, above and beyond him. Harry tapped them all, and drained away much of their available magic.

The overwhelming rush of power that resulted streamed through Harry's mind, burning in it's passing. It rushed down the link to Voldemort, and there it pooled, having no way out. It couldn't return the way it had come, because power continued to flood in. Trapped, the magic eddied and stormed, destroying it's receptacle. Under the massive strain, Voldemort's mind broke, and with it, the link to Harry's.

The remaining power backwashed into Harry's mind and, too exhausted to do more than whimper, Harry gave the last remnants of his own strength to protect his daughter and to prevent the power back-lashing even further.

The hands on his arms and shoulders were the only things that held him upright, and Harry bitterly resented them when all he wanted to do was press his burning face to the cool slate flagstones of the floor.

Voices rumbled painfully loud above him, and he attempted to scream when somebody tried to turn his head. There was light, and it was cruel. It felt like acid on an open wound. Harry whimpered, and when the hands gently released him, he curled on the blessedly cool floor, one arm over his eyes, and the other protectively clutching his gravid abdomen.

After an all too short stretch of eternity, the cold hands returned again, lifting him up. Harry whimpered. The owner of the hands let his head loll, and a raspy scream forced its way out Harry's lacerated throat. Every part of him ached. But his head burned, excess magic still crackling through it.

That was the last thing he knew before he felt the blissful darkness swamp him.


	12. Chapter Twelve

A/N: o.O Wow. I've been away for a while, and I just went and looked at all the reviews I got for my last chapter. What can I say? Thank you all so much! I'm so glad people love this story. And there's some interesting theories out there about Jason. None of which I'm going to either confirm or deny. I will say that there's only two more chapters to go before your questions are answered. I'll try and get them out soonish.

Anyway, since I got so many great reviews, I'm not going to respond to them, much as I would like to.

Read and enjoy chapter twelve…

Chapter Twelve:

The students of Hogwarts slept late the next day, recouping the energy Harry had siphoned from them the night before. Such was their lethargy that it took until almost lunch for Draco and Blaise to recall the ceiling collapse in the dungeon, and for the five friends to connect that with Harry's absence. Not long after that, the quintet had shaken the stupor in their dash to the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore smiled tiredly at them, and assured them Harry was okay. He refused, however, to tell them where he was, or what had happened, instead ushering them towards the Great Hall, where he promised everything would be explained to the school.

In the Great Hall, the other students were beginning to realize something had happened: the prefects had been told to ensure that all their housemates were in the Great Hall for lunch and the Slytherins had spread the story of the rubble in the dungeon hallways.

The Hall quieted as Dumbledore entered, herding Hermione, Ron, Dean, Draco and Blaise ahead of him. Giving them a final reassuring smile, Dumbledore gestured them to seats at the Ravenclaw table. The Ravenclaws made room for them and the group meekly sat down, turning their attention back to Dumbledore as the headmaster needlessly called for silence.

"By now I'm sure you've all noticed something amiss. The corridor ceiling by the Potions classroom has collapsed, and I'm sure many of you have noticed the epidemic tiredness," Dumbledore raised his voice over the murmurs of agreement, "They are both symptoms of the same situation, and I am pleased to be able to say that it is a happy one."

The murmuring rose in volume, but was abruptly cut by Dumbledore's voice.

"Voldemort…" he paused dramatically, and everybody in the room turned wide-eyed to him. The old wizard smiled, "Voldemort no longer poses a threat to the Wizarding World – or indeed to anyone – anymore."

If Dumbledore had been expecting wild cheers, he was sadly disappointed. The students stared disbelievingly at him. No few faces were pale, and many jaws were hanging open. The headmaster smiled behind his beard, and the twinkle lit in his eyes.

"Once again we owe a deep debt of gratitude to your fellow student, Harry Potter. Last night, during Harry's detention with Professor Snape, Voldemort launched a mental attack on him, intending harm to his child. However, Voldemort failed to take into account neither Harry's overwhelming desire to protect his child, nor his unique abilities."

Dumbledore looked around at the silent, shocked crowd. His gaze stopped on Harry's closest friends and he nodded to them. Hermione smiled bravely back and Draco solemnly returned his nod.

"In his desperation to protect his daughter, Harry nearly drained himself of magic. He sent the magic down the link between his mind and Voldemort's. When that considerable power proved not enough, Harry began to gather magic from his surroundings. He effectively made a temporary magicless desert of the Potions classroom. When he ran out of power there, and Voldemort still wasn't defeated to his satisfaction, Harry extended his reach and began to take the magic from Hogwarts stones themselves. This resulted in the collapse of the dungeon corridor ceiling, and when Professor Snape tried to move Harry from the danger zone, Harry latched onto a new, and much more abundant source of power: life. He drained Professor Snape almost as badly as he had himself, and he took a considerable amount of my own power. He then reached out the four Houses and took from you all what magic you could spare.

"Harry channeled this huge store of raw magic through himself and into Voldemort. The overload of power destroyed Voldemort's mind, and all that remains of him now is a barely-alive husk.

"The power that Voldemort's shattered mind did not absorb backwashed into Harry's mind, and I'm sorry to say that he is very weak at the moment. Nothing that a few days quiet bed rest shouldn't cure, however." Dumbledore smiled cheerily around at the still silent hall. His expression turned more serious.

"On the heels of that good news, I must caution you all: while Voldemort has been incapacitated, his Death Eaters have not been. You cannot let yourselves believe that the world is once again a safe place. However, I do not doubt that, in the disorder brought about by the loss of their leader, we shall not have much trouble rounding up his followers. They will be much disheartened at the news that, effectively, Voldemort is dead!" Dumbledore deliberately let his voice ring triumphantly through the hall at his last words. It worked, shaking the students from their stupor and, starting with Ron and Dean, an exultant cheer spread quickly through the hall. Soon after, chaos reined in the hall as the students left their tables to seek out friends in other houses, all exclaiming and no few weeping. Dumbledore prevented the other Professors from trying to restore order, and when the meal finally appeared, it was a feast worthy of Hallowe'en and the jugs were full of Butterbeer.

The impromptu celebration carried on into the early afternoon before it was cut abruptly short by the arrival of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and a phalanx of aurors. The students were quickly ushered out of the Great Hall by their respective Heads of House, Professor Sinistra taking charge of the Slytherins in Snape's absence.

Hermione tried to use her position as Head Girl to find out what exactly was going on, but she was turned away at the gargoyle by Professor McGonagall with assurances that the students would be told all they needed to know.

The five of them tried to get into the hospital wing to see Harry, but Madam Pomfery insisted they would simply set back his recovery and told them they could see him when - and only when - she deemed him well enough.

It was fortunate that much of the next three days was a weekend; all function ceased at Hogwarts - and indeed, in the Wizarding World at large - as the news spread that Voldemort was dealt with once and for all. And by their favourite hero Harry Potter.

The controversy stirred by the news of Harry's pregnancy was quickly forgotten in the new flush of worship from the Wizarding Public. Hogwarts was under siege by well-wishers for their young hero. The owlery was full of foreign birds delivering packages of all kinds at all hours. Professor McGonagall had to delegate six of the prefects simply to deal with it all. The other eighteen prefects were kept as equally busy keeping watch over their fellow students and patrolling the school's grounds for breaches in the wards, trying to keep erstwhile reporters and well-wishers out, and over-excited students in.

Every spare moment Draco, Ron and Hermione had, they spent outside the infirmary, waiting for Madam Pomfery to let them in, or at least give them an update. Dean and Blaise had set up an almost permanent watch there, with the intermittent company from Harry's other friends. Madam Pomfery allowed none them even a glimpse of Harry's bed.

Harry slept through it all. When he did wake, early in the morning four days later, he bolted upright, screaming at the sensation of pain. He thrust the light blanket off him as it abraded too harshly. Immediately the blanket fell off him, Harry started shivering violently despite the sweat coating his limbs.

When the curtains about his bed rattled open and flooded it with light, Harry, despite the pain it caused him, buried his head in his pillow to escape the agony in his eyes. Painful hands tried to turn him, and Harry didn't the strength to resist them. He flopped onto his back.

Voices rumbled echoingly above them, but only snatches made it through his haze: "…too much…" "…sensitive…" "…light…" None of it made any sense to him, but Harry was grateful when the light was dimmed to a more bearable level.

Then the hands were back, prickling across his burning forehead, pulling up his eyelids, feeling for his pulse. Harry tried to squirm away from them, but the movement rubbed his back painful on the bedclothes.

The voices were buzzing annoyingly again: "…is he..?" "…recovery… …slowed by the…"

The hands lifted his head at a painful angle and pushed something against his mouth. Bitter liquid spilled between his slack lips and Harry swallowed to avoid choking. The potion rushed icily down his throat, freezing him from the inside out, leaving behind a barrier separating Harry from the pain. He started shivering again.

The hands retrieved the blanket he had discarded, cast a warming charm on it (Harry felt the tingle of magic painfully) and spread it over him again. Harry tried to curl up on his side, but the hands wouldn't let him. They held him on his back and started probing his belly.

"… how long…" "…don't… … weeks…" "… then…" "…what about… … the baby…?"

Baby, Harry thought hazily. That should mean something to him… The hands pressed at his abdomen again, and Harry remembered. Baby! His baby! He couldn't feel her! There was something wrong!

Harry slapped aside the hands on him and sat up, desperately clutching his distended belly.

My baby! he tried to scream, but only managed a mumble.

The hands wrapped around his shoulders and tried to get him to lie back down. Harry shrugged them off and huddled tighter about his unborn child. The voices were calling to him, he vaguely knew, but they didn't matter; only his unmoving child did.

"…Harry… …listen to… …she's… …not hurt… …Harry… …'s okay… …_Harry_…" In desperation, the hands grabbed hold of his and pressed them into his belly, using magic to feel out the child.

It hurt, the power flowing through his hands, but it didn't matter because he could feel her, he could feel his baby again, and she was okay, she was alive, and everything was alright, they were safe and she was alive and okay, it was all okay, she was fine…

Harry heaved a dry sob in relief and let his shoulders sag, still clutching at the ethereal proof that his daughter was unharmed. The hands pushed him back down and he let them this time, content to wrap his arms protectively over his child and let the darkness take him again.

The next time Harry woke, Sirius was sitting by his bed. He could tell, because he could smell him. He smelt like ginger, and sweat, and - just vaguely - like wet dog. Sirius was stroking Harry's hand where it lay on the blanket; his rough fingers felt like sandpaper across a raw wound on Harry's sensitive skin.

Harry snatched his hand back and threw off his blankets, which likewise abraded him. He promptly shivered. "Sir'us," he muttered.

He heard the scrabble of wood as Sirius picked up his wand.

"Lu-" Sirius started, but realizing what he was about to cast, Harry batted at Sirius's wand, mumbling "Nnnn…"

Sirius pulled his wand out of reach and pressed Harry's hand back down with his free one, "It's just for a moment, Harry. Madam Pomfery said I had to give you a potion if you woke up. Close your eyes tight."

Harry scrunched his eyes closed, but even so when Sirius cast his light spell it still bruised Harry's retinas. He turned his head away. There was a clinking of glassware, and the sound of liquid being poured; then Sirius cupped Harry's cheek and doused the light.

Harry wanted to jerk away from the painful touch, but he held still as Sirius rested his thumb against his lips and guided the cup to his 

mouth. Harry shivered again as he swallowed the potion and it spread its barrier of ice through his body.

Sirius set down the cup and pulled Harry's blankets up around his 

Shoulders again. He sat back and lit his wand again. This time there was a barrier of ice between Harry and the pain.

"There," Sirius said, "That's better, isn't it?"

Harry glared near-sightedly at him.

"Hey, don't look at me like that!" Sirius protested. "There's a very 

Good reason I'm not a medi-wizard: absolutely no bedside manner."

Harry's mind was starting to clear a little after the potion. He shook it at his godfather and sat up further.

"Wha're you doin' 'ere?" he slurred.

"I came to visit my favourite godson because he's landed himself in the hospital again," Sirius deadpanned.

"'M yer on'y godson."

Sirius smiled, "All the more reason to make sure you haven't killed

yourself."

Harry snorted.

"But… isn't it dange'ous?"

Sirius grinned triumphantly, "Not anymore!"

Harry blinked owlishly at him, "Huh?"

"Since you destroyed Voldemort and Wormtail t -"

"What?" Harry gaped at his godfather.

Sirius paused in his exuberance, "Don't you remember? You defeated Voldemort."

"-Killed 'im?" Harry asked, struggling to remember.

"Well. Not quite." Sirius shook his head. "You really don't remember defeating Voldemort?" he asked again, and then answered his own question, "I guess not. Dumbledore said he invaded your mind and -"

… And Harry remembered that. His hand stole to his pregnant belly and covered it protectively. "He was gonna hurt m'baby."

Sirius sobered at that. "Yes," he agreed slowly, "so you gathered all the magic you could reach and poured it into Voldemort's head and burnt him out. You burnt yourself too: that's why you're still so sensitive to everything. At least…" he paused, looking a little uncertain, "That's what Dumbledore and Pomfery say happened."

Sirius leant forward and grasped Harry's arm through the blanket, "Now you're an even bigger hero than you were before." - Sirius didn't seem to notice when Harry's eyes narrowed - "Reporters have been trying to get in to see you ever since Dumbledore broke the news. They almost had a guard up here, but Madam Pomfery said she wouldn't have anyone throwing dangerous hexes in her infirmary.

"There's been thousands of letters too, and presents. And Hogsmeade is full of people wanting to get a glimpse of you. They'd be in the castle too, if Dumbledore hadn't warded the gates. He won't even let the Ministry officials in without someone to escort them: Fudge keeps saying that the public has a right to see their hero."

Harry scowled, "'M not their hero."

Sirius sighed sadly on Harry's behalf and stroked his arm, "I know you hate it, Harry; all that attention -"

Harry jerked away from him.

"Hey!" Sirius said, grasping his shoulder, "I'm not mocking you Harry. I know what it's like to have people scrutinizing everything about your life."

Harry calmed down and Sirius patted his shoulder reassuringly, "I'll tell you what. Once Pettigrew's trial is over, and I've been acquitted -"

"Pettigrew?" Harry interrupted him.

Sirius beamed, "Pettigrew turned himself in! He just turned up at the Ministry three days ago and said he wanted to give himself up. Kingsley managed to get assigned to guard him, and they questioned him under Veritaserum. He had to admit to being the one to betray Lily and James! Now the Ministry has to acquit me. I'm free Harry!"

Harry lurched upright and wrapped his arms around his godfather's neck. Sirius hugged him tightly back.

"Once Pettigrew's trial is over," Sirius mumbled into his hair, "and I'm free again, we'll go away. How does that sound? The Order can have Grimmuald Place, and you and me and baby, we'll just leave," Sirius continued, "and move to Indian. We could live in forests like that boy, what was his name, with the wolves?"

"Mowgli," Harry mumbled.

"That's it," Sirius agreed, "Mowgli. Shere-Kahn is dead now, so we'll be safe wherever we go. It'll be just you and me, Mowgli and Baloo. Well, at least until baby arrives. Bagheera will be able to visit whenever he feels like it too, but who'd want to live with such a stick in the mud," Sirius winked to show he meant no malice.

Harry smiled weakly at him. His smile faded, "But what about Kha?"

"What about him? You won't need to worry about Kha, Harry. He'll be here at Hogwarts while we're half way around the world from him." Sirius patted Harry's hand reassuringly and stood up. "I have to leave now. Pettigrew's trail starts tomorrow, and I have to be there."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes tiredly. "Good luck," he whispered. Sirius left and Madam Pomfery came and forced a dose of the ice potion upon Harry. With the pain blocked, Harry placidly let the mediwitch replace the covers he had thrown off when he'd hugged Sirius. She smoothed the sweaty hair from Harry's brow, and left, drawing the bed curtains closed behind her.

The next time Harry woke, Madam Pomfery allowed Ron and Hermione – "But only you two, not the rest of your cohort. He doesn't need you lot getting him all worked up." – in to visit him.

"Hey mate," Ron grinned, and managed to clap Harry on the shoulder before Hermione shoved him out of the way and enveloped Harry in a rib-cracking hug. "We were so worried about you Harry."

Harry gasped for air, and was grateful Pomfery had given him the ice-potion before letting his friends in. He batted feebly at Hermione's back, but she didn't get the idea until Ron pulled on her shoulder. "You're squashing him, Hermione."

"Oops," Hermione instantly let him go and stepped back, grinning sheepishly, "Sorry about that Harry."

She settled on the edge of his bed, and Ron seated himself in the chair beside them.

"You can blame it on Dean, Blaise and Ginny," the Head Girl continued, "they weren't allowed in to see you, so they made me promise to give you a hug from them."

"S'ok," Harry mumbled, "Can't feel anythin' 'n'way. 'S the ice."

Ron blinked at him, "What ice, Harry?"

Harry waved his hand towards the bedside table on which stood the empty mug that had held his ice-potion. "Ma'am Pomfery gave me a potion. 'S icy."

"Vallum inexcrucio," Hermione said, garnering a blank look from Ron. "It's the name of the potion. It means… um… 'barrier against pain'. It's what the medi-witches and –wizards give to people that have been under the Cruciatus curse. Supposedly the drinker experiences an ice-like sensation throughout his or her body. It doesn't actually remove the pain; it just allows the subject to distance him- or herself from it."

"Yuh," Harry agreed idly, "Th' ice potion."

Ron guffawed. Hermione treated them both to a long-suffering sigh, but a small smile danced around her lips. Then her expression turned serious.

"So what actually happened that night, Harry?" Ron shut up immediately and leant forward, eager to hear Harry's answer. Harry wearily dragged a hand over his face. His eyes still hidden, he said, "He tried to attack my baby."

Hermione gasped and grabbed Harry's wrist tightly, "Is she okay?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, Madam Pomfery says she's fine. I was worried that I wouldn't have enough magic left to sustain her, but Dumbledore said that I instinctively retained _just_ enough for her to be safe."

"But how'd it happen, Harry? Dumbledore wouldn't say all that much," Ron persisted.

Harry shook his wrist loose of Hermione's grip. He pushed himself into a more upright position against his pillows and proceeded to tell his two best friends just what Voldemort had done and what he said to Harry. 

"… and now Ma'am Pomfery says that I should be able to leave here in about a week. I'll be moving into my new rooms straight' away, though," Harry finished tiredly, slumping down again. Ron looked appropriately disgusted and though Hermione was pale, she predictably wondered what Voldemort had originally intended to do had he ever gotten his hands on Harry. Harry just shook his head and asked if they could talk about something else.

"We've all been real worried about you," Ron piped up, "Blaise and Gin have even called something of a truce."

"I, for one, hope that they'll keep it even after Harry's well again," Hermione interjected. "It's so much easier to study without those two bickering over Ron."

Ron flushed, "They don't bicker over me!"

"They do," Harry chuckled weakly, "You've always been Gin's protector and now with Blaise around, she…" Harry trailed off as, over Ron's shoulder, he saw the infirmary door inch open. He could see Draco's blonde head down near the knob as he poked his head around the corner. And over his shoulder, Harry saw Blaise and Ginny - arm in arm. And Blaise had blue hair. Harry blinked.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned. "Are you alright?"

Harry tore his eyes away just as Ginny raised her hand and waved. "Huh? Yeah, 'm fine. 'S just… that's more than a truce, isn't it?"

Ron looked at him, "What do you mean?"

"Well," Harry flapped a hand towards the doorway, where Blaise was showing Blaise how to produce harmless fireworks, "Blaise has dyed her hair _blue_ and is teaching Ginny tricks."

Ron and Hermione stared at him, and turned to look towards the door.

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, "What are you talking about?"

Harry looked at the door too. It was closed. He frowned, "Draco had the door open. Blaise and Ginny were there. I saw Blaise's hair."

Hermione peered closely into Harry's face.

"What?" he exclaimed. She just shook her head and shuffled closer to him, pressing her hand against his forehead. He pushed it away, "What are you doing?"

"Are you sure you're feeling okay, mate?" Ron said, looking at him strangely.

"I'm fine!" Harry insisted, "What's with you two?"

"Draco is at quidditch practice, Harry," Hermione said.

"And the truce between Ginny and Blaise doesn't even go as far as them talking," Ron continued.

Harry stared at them disbelievingly. "I just saw them! Draco opened the door, and Blaise had blue hair and she and Ginny were arm in arm."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something and snapped it shut. She opened it again, but didn't say anything. Ron just stared at him.

"What?!" Harry demanded, "I saw them!"

"Harry," Ron said, "I don't think-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Madam Pomfery bustled over carrying a beaker of potion.

"That's long enough, you two. Harry needs to get his rest." She shooed Hermione off the bed and lifted the beaker to Harry's lips. Harry obediently swallowed the sedative and lay back down. "Bye 'Mione, Ron," he muttered, the potion already working.

Before the potion could put him completely under he heard Hermione talking to the medi-witch:

"Is Harry okay, Madam Pomfery?"

There was a rattle as the matron closed the curtains around Harry's bed, "It's nothing to worry about, dear. He's just suffering some hallucinations."

"Will he be okay?" Ron asked.

"Of course he will be. It's just a side effect of the overload of magic energy he suffered."

Harry woke to darkness. Someone was supporting his head and holding a beaker to his lips. Harry dutifully swallowed the by now familiar mix of Vallum Inexcrucio and a sedative potion. Harry blinked drowsily as the two potions kicked in and he let his head loll when the supporting hand was taken away. It was taking him longer to fall asleep this time, and he wondered if Madam Pomfery had reduced his dosage.

A long moment later, long after he would have succumbed under the usual dosage, someone picked up his hand in his own, and Harry knew he was weaving reality and fantasy again, because he could smell Jason, that odd combination of sage and sandalwood. And he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes; couldn't bring himself to dispel the fragile illusion that Jason was there with him, that he actually cared.

So Harry let himself believe that the person beside his bed was Jason. It was easy: Jason didn't say anything, just sat rubbing the back of Harry's hand with his thumbs, and Harry filled his lungs with his scent. He couldn't actually remember Jason ever being so quietly comforting towards him. Harry sighed wistfully. The thumbs paused. Harry decided that his mind had conjured Jason to comfort him.

Harry sighed again. The person holding his hand freed one of his own and rubbed his arm soothingly. The other resumed the caress on the back of Harry's hand. Harry frowned sadly and tightened his hand around it. The caress stopped again. The hand tightened briefly around his and let go.

Jason's scent intensified as Harry felt his visitor lean over him. There was a soft press of lips and a lingering caress on his swollen stomach, and then another small kiss on his forehead, beside his scar. Then Jason was gone and Harry's frown deepened. He bit his lip and, curling on his side, he drew the hand that Jason had held up under his chin. He cursed his fevered brain for its hallucinations, because it hurt to imagine Jason there, and know he wasn't.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"So? Have you decided what you'll name her yet?"

Harry looked up from his History of Magic homework to find Hermione and Ginny standing in the infirmary doorway. Ginny was holding a bag of what Harry hoped was chocolate frogs.

Hermione was holding books.

Harry rolled his eyes and set aside his scroll and quill. "Not yet."

Hermione huffed and strode over to the bed, Ginny trailing along behind. "You've had ages to decide Harry. It's not like you've been doing much in the last two weeks."

It had been two weeks since Hermione and Ron had first been allowed in to see Harry. In that time, Harry had ceased to suffer hallucinations (much to his relief – he was seeing Jason in them far too often), become less sensitive to stimuli and regained much of his strength. But not enough just yet that Madam Pomfery was willing to let him out of her tender care. Even if he would be moving directly into a suite just down the hall from her domain.

Hermione pushed aside Harry's scrolls and put down all but one of her books. This last she dumped in Harry's lap. "Well Ginny and I are here to help you now. You've only got three weeks to go before she's due. And what if she came early? Then where would you be? You know how important the Naming Ceremony is! You can't afford to be caught without a name ready. You'd probably blurt out some thing like Brunhilde or Gertrude!"

Hermione paused to take a breath and Harry looked at Ginny, "Gin. Help?"

Ginny smirked and plonked herself down on the end of Harry's bed. She shook her head. "Uh-uh. Nothing doing. She's been worrying over this for days now. Malfoy finally got sick of it interrupting their 'private time' and told her to just talk to you about it. I decided to tag along and watch you suffer – er, I mean _visit _you."

Hermione glared at Ginny and poked Harry in the ribs, "Harry, pay attention. These" – she gestured at the small library she'd brought with her – "are some books on names. I found the one you're holding to be the best. It has the names cross-referenced by culture and meaning."

Harry bent to look at the name of the book, but it was obscured as Hermione placed a scroll on top of it. "I made a list of names I thought you'd like, too."

Harry picked up the scroll and it un-spooled in his lap. There was at least three feet of names in Hermione's small, precise writing. Harry blinked.

"Hermione, there's got to be at least three hundred names here! I only need two."

She huffed mildly, "Well you've got to start somewhere."

Ginny took pity on him and handed him the bag she had brought. "Here Harry. I thought you might need some chocolate while you tried to decide."

Harry eagerly took the bag and ripped open a chocolate frog. He bit the head off and sighed dramatically before picking up the scroll of names.

"Anthea… not really. Arachne… Ron'd kill me…"

* * * * * *

Ginny and Hermione weren't the only ones to 'help' Harry over the next three days. Ron, Blaise, Draco, Dean, Sirius, Remus… Even Madam Pomfery put in her two cents worth.

* * * * * *

"My sister had some beautiful names picked out for girls when she was pregnant," Madam Pomfery said, putting clean sheets on the bed next to Harry's. "Of course, she didn't end up using them since she had a little boy. But they were such lovely names."

"What were they?" Harry asked, setting aside the book he was flicking through.

The matron paused in her task and looked over at Harry, "Now mind I don't remember them all. Just my favourites."

She sat down on the edge of the bed and began ticking them off on her fingers, "There was Williamina, and Paige and Sabina – I really do like that name. Then there was Latisha. Natasha. Demelza – such an interesting name, that. Abigail and… and… now what was that last one..? Felicity! That was it."

"What does Demelza mean?"

"Nothing really," Madam Pomfery replied. "It's a place, a fortification in southern England I think."

"And Felicity?"

"Great happiness, if I remember correctly."

"What about Abigail?"

"Gives joy. That is perhaps my favourite."

"Hmm, mine too." Harry wrote the name down on the back of Hermione's list. After a moment's thought, he wrote down Demelza too, starting a list of his own.

* * * * * *

"What about Cameron?" Ron suggested.

"Honey, that's a guy's name," Blaise said, patting his arm.

"So?" Ron retorted, "I think it's a good name."

"But it's still a guy's name."

Ron huffed, "What do you suggest then."

"I like Bryony."

* * * * * *

"Olivia?" Dean asked, "It means 'life'. That's a good sentiment isn't it?"

Harry crinkled his nose. "'M not sure I like _Oh_-livia."

"Livia then. That's a name too," Hermione told him.

Harry cocked his head as he considered. "Livia Potter." He grinned. "I like that." He scribbled it down on his list.

* * * * * *

"What about 'Jaffa'?" Ginny suggested.

Harry, Dean and Hermione looked at each other. They snorted in unison.

"What?" Ginny said indignantly, "It means 'beauty'."

"Yes, but 'Jaffa' is the name of a slave race on a TV show," Hermione explained. "I don't think Harry wants to name his daughter after slaves."

Dean snickered, "Or worse yet, after chocolates."

* * * * * *

"What do you think of Hagar?" Dean asked.

"No," Harry said instantly. "Besides, that's a boy's name."

"This book says otherwise. Apparently it's a girl's name too. It means 'flight'."

"Really?" Harry looked intrigued and Dean passed him the book, pointing out the entry. "Huh. So it does. Still no."

* * * * * *

"Here's another one that means life Harry: Aisha." Hermione piped up.

"Aisha." Harry rolled it around his mouth. "I like that better than Livia." He squeezed it in at the top of his list.

* * * * * *

"Oooo," Draco whistled, "Here's a great one. It means 'spear'."

"Yes?" Harry prodded, "What's the name then?"

"Gertrudis. Doesn't that just have a ri–"

"No."

Draco rolled his eyes and turned a page. "Well what about one meaning 'special friend'?"

"What?"

"Oldwina."

"Ha."

"Is that a no?"

"It's a hell no."

Draco scowled and quietly went back to perusing his book.

"Xalbadora," he said suddenly.

"Uh?" Harry grunted looking up from his list.

"How do you like Xalbadora for a name? It means 'saviour'."

"Draco…" Harry sighed. Sometimes it almost seemed more trouble than it was worth to be friends with such a professional annoyance.

Draco huffed, "Since you don't like my other suggestions, what about Ophelia?"

Harry eyed him warily, "What's it mean?"

Draco smirked, "Serpentine."

Silence.

"You were working up to that, weren't you?"

"It was worth a shot," Draco shrugged.

When Draco was involved in his book again, Harry superstitiously added the name anyway.

* * * * * *

"Oh Harry, here's a perfect name!" Hermione dumped her book in Harry's lap, pointing out an entry.

"It means 'peaceful heroine."

Harry obediently followed her finger. Diplomatically, he bit back his snort. "Halfrida?"

"Don't you think it's brilliant? It would be so symbolic. You're a hero in a time of strife; she's your heir, and hopefully by the time she's our age, everything will be peaceful."

"Um, thanks for the suggestion and all Hermione, but I'm kind of looking for something a little less… esoteric."

* * * * * *

"How's my favourite grand-goddaughter Ignacia doing?" Sirius bent his head over Harry's stomach, caressing the bulge.

"Sirius!" Harry swatted him on the shoulder mock indignantly, "You don't get to name her. You just get to make suggestions."

Remus chuckled as he claimed the chair by Harry's bed. "And at that, he's changed his mind at least three times already. And that was just this morning."

Sirius, deciding not to dignify Remus's comment with a reply, sneered playfully at them both and went back to talking to Harry stomach, calling it 'Ignacia'.

Harry stage whispered to Remus, "What does Ignacia mean?"

"Fire," he replied, "It's a Latin name."

"Spanish," Sirius corrected. 

Harry grinned. Remus rolled his eyes, "Either way, it's better than the first name he came up with this morning."

"Hey," Sirius looked up, "What's wrong with Valborga?"

"Valborga?" Harry choked.

Sirius looked miffed, "Yes, it means 'protecting ruler."

Remus reached out a hand and patted Sirius's arm reassuringly. "I did tell you that he likely wouldn't like it, Siri."

"What names do you like, Remus?"

"Amaris," Sirius immediately answered for him.

Remus frowned at him, "I never said I liked that name for Harry's child. I said that if I had a daughter, I would like to call her that."

"Why?" Harry wondered, "What does it mean?"

"It's a Spanish name meaning 'child of the moon'. It was a fit of whimsy." Remus flapped a hand idly, dismissing the notion, but he looked so sad for a moment that Harry wondered if he didn't want a child of his own.

There was a small silence. Sirius broke it – a little over-brightly – saying, "I do have other names I like. Others I think you would like too."

Harry looked askance at him.

"No, really! What do you think of Alaina? 'Dear child' or 'beautiful'."

Harry cocked his head, "I do like that one."

Sirius smiled smugly at Remus. "See? I told you he would like my names."

Remus snorted, "I never said he wouldn't. I just said I didn't think he would like Jenda and Intizara."

"Intizara? Actually, I like the sound of that one. What's the meaning?"

"Triumphant," Sirius smirked… well, triumphantly.

Harry grimaced a little.

"What? You don't like it any more?"

"It's not that…"

Remus looked sidelong at him, "Then what is it?"

"It's just… everyone keeps on suggesting names with meanings that are just so… so _very _symbolic. Like 'triumphant'. And 'protecting ruler' and 'peaceful heroine'. Or worst yet 'saviour'. I don't want her name to be something that will remind me of… of all _this_." Harry gestured broadly, referring to what had landed him in the infirmary in the first place.

Sirius and Remus were silent for a moment. Harry superstitiously blinked rapidly, cursing, once more, his unstable hormones.

"Of all the names Sirius read out to me," Remus calmly said, "I like the name Bonita. It means 'pretty little one."

Harry smiled gratefully at Remus for ignoring his small outburst. "Bonita? I like that."

"What was that other one?" Sirius chimed in quietly, "The one that meant 'clever'?"

"Cassidy," Remus said.

* * * * * *

Harry sat in the rocking chair and dapped at his eyes. It was ridiculous really, to burst into tears like that. He was just glad Remus had herded everyone out into the sitting room to give him a moment. He hugged the stuffed toy in his lap closer, and set the chair to rocking.

He hadn't expected to react like this when his friends had first shown him his new rooms. It was just that he'd never had anywhere that he could really call his own before. And, even though these rooms were only temporary, they had been done up with him in mind.

It wasn't the sitting room that had brought him to tears, though it was a gracious, warm and comfortable room, done in the colours of autumn: a leaf-red, over-stuffed couch covered in orange and brown pillows, a worn deep green armchair, a walnut desk and matching chair, rugs in various shades of burnt umber.

And it wasn't the bedroom, in cool, relaxing shades of blue, with it's massive four-poster bed and walls covered with photos of his friends and family.

It was the nursery.

The moment he'd stepped into it, he knew that most of the work had been done in here. One entire wall was windows with a south-east aspect, perfect to catch the morning sun. Calico blinds adorned the windows, ready to be drawn at night. The cold stone walls had been plastered smooth and painted in the welcoming colour of spring's first leaves. A metre shy of the high ceiling, the walls slowly shaded to sunrise's gold. The vaulted ceiling met them in morning's colours, then moved upwards through a summer day's perfect cerulean and, at the highest point, into a midnight starscape.

The wall opposite the windows, the only other without a door in it, was a mural. It was done in the muggle fashion in the sense that its subjects did not move. But it was so very realistic that Harry was sure he would be able to step into the glade it depicted. Huge trees surrounded a forest glade in early summer. Small, white star-shaped flowers Harry didn't know the name of sparsely decorated the lush grass that carpeted the dell, and purple-blossomed vines draped themselves over moss-mantled rocks. A robin redbreast and a jobberknoll calmly shared the feast of red berries that covered one the bushes under the trees. Opposite them, peering out from behind an oak, was a stag that looked suspiciously like Prongs (and Harry had started blinking rapidly when he noticed that detail). In the fork of a fore-ground tree, there was an eagle-owl, and slinking through the underbrush in the background, there was a kneazle stalking an oblivious pixie.

In front of the mural wall was the cradle Remus had carved. Made of pine varnished to a honey-warm colour, it nestled in a matching stand, supported by pivots, one at the head of the cradle, the other at the foot, idle for rocking a fretting child to sleep. The relief carving that decorated the outside of the cradle matched the mural: vines crept languidly across it, and wrens and fairies played hide-and-seek behind the leaves. The headboard, however, played host to the Gryffindor lion. Harry had laughed at that, and then sniffed.

That was about the time Remus had subtly suggested that maybe Harry should have a moment alone to inspect the room. Sirius had lingered after that others had left, not saying anything. He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and led him the rocking chair.

"This was my contribution," he said, settling Harry into it, "I'm no good at carpentry, but I could give McGonagall a run for her money when it comes to Transfiguration."

Harry snickered weakly at that. He dropped his head, hiding his tear-bright eyes under the pretense of admiring the red velvet padding on the arms. Sirius allowed him his pretense, just squeezed his shoulder and left to join the others.

There was padding on the seat of the rocking chair too, and at his back, Harry noticed with the intense focus of someone who does not wish to cry. The wood was oak, he thought, and the seat much wider than any rocking chair he'd seen before: almost wide enough for him to sit cross-legged in. The arms curved around to meet the back in a solid piece of wood; there where no slats at all. In fact the whole thing looked far to heavy to rock easily, but Harry supposed magic had to have some use.

Finally, Harry pulled his attention away from the rocking chair, and glanced around the room again, taking in the furnishing he hadn't noticed before. On the wall opposite him, to one side of the door to his bedroom, there was a changing table painted in cheery yellow with matching shelves above it. On the other side of the door, there was a royal blue chest of drawers with red handles, and more shelves. Both sets of shelves were empty, waiting, Harry supposed, for him to actually go out and buy what his daughter needed.

In the same alcove that the rocking chair occupied, there was a door that, presumably, led back into the sitting room. There was also two shelves. Only these two weren't empty. On the top shelf, between two rampant lions acting bookends, there was a collection of perhaps a dozen books. Children's books to judge by the titles.

On the bottom shelf, propped at one end, looking terribly lonely, there was a rather tattered bear. Once upon a time, it had probably been cream, but now it was an undistinguished shade of brown. One brown glass eye was so chipped it was milky, and the left ear sagged pathetically, like it had been chewed to lankness, but the faded pink stitching of the mouth curved welcomingly into a cheery little smile.

Reaching up, Harry lifted the bear into his lap. He stared into its eyes for a moment, then he turned it over, searching for a tag. It was there, underneath the short tail. It boldly proclaimed 'Bunty' which Harry though must be the bear's name. On the other side of the tag, he found the initials _H.J. Potter_.

Really, he wasn't all the surprised that it was his, even if he didn't remember it. Remus or Sirius probably salvaged it from Godric's Hollow. But it was enough to put paid to all his attempts to not cry.

* * * * * *

"So?" Hermione asked as she and the others helped Harry stock the nursery, "Have you finally decided what you want to name her?"

Harry looked down at his hands as he carefully tucked the baby blanket from Jason into the shelves. He nodded.

"Well, tell us then," Blaise demanded.

Harry smiled hesitantly at her, "Aisha Cearo. Aisha means 'life' and Cearo means –"

"Sorrow," Draco finished for him when Harry paused. "You're going to call your daughter 'sorrow'," he continued, not making it a question.

"Yes," was Harry's only reply.

Hermione briefly touched Harry's hand.

"I like it," said Ron, "Aisha Cearo Potter. It sounds good."

A/N: Bunty is the name of my own teddy bear.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

AN: Well, here it is. The chapter that you've all been waiting for. The one that should answer most of your questions about Jason. *snerk* 

Chapter Fourteen:

It was the Friday afternoon before the first Hogsmeade weekend since Voldemort had been vanquished, and, although it had been over a month since that night, celebrations were still ongoing. Point of fact, Madam Rosemerta was hosting a party the very next day, especially for the Hogwarts students. The first and second years had even been given special dispensation to attend it.

As a result, the air at Hogwarts was filled with anticipation, and the students were restless and excited. Even the seventh years Potions students, who should have known better, weren't paying close attention to their work. It had Professor Snape in a foul mood, and out to get someone.

Harry and Dean were shaping up as prime candidates for his ire. As had become their wont, the duo had paired up and were working on the set potion. Ostensibly. Snape felt that there were far too many covert looks and shy smiles at that table for any work to be going on. He sneered and bided his time: sooner or later, one of them would make a mistake…

He smirked as he watched Dean's hand pass over the bubotubber pus and pick up the dragon's mucus: perhaps it would be sooner rather than later. Snape rose from his desk as the cauldron began to smoke and Harry and Dean backed hastily away.

The potion boiled over before Snape had made it halfway done the aisle. The classroom filled with the stench of rotten tomatoes and burnt hair as the thick black substance bubbled down the sides of the cauldron, crept across the bench-top and splattered onto the floor. There, it quickly hardened like tar. Snape smirked wickedly.

"Potter," he spat, "and Thomas. How you compliment each other's ineptitude. Twenty points from Gryffindor for sheer incompetence." He made a show of inspecting the mess the mishap had caused, "And a further ten for messing up my classroom. Each."

Dean's eyes bugged and Harry looked like he wanted to protest. Snape narrowed his eyes and dared him. Harry glared back, but didn't say anything.

Snape gave a satisfied little smirk, "The pair of you shall report here at nine o'clock tonight to clean up this mess. You shall not leave again until the room is spotless."

Dean groaned. This time Harry did protest, "Nine o'clock! But it'll take forever to clean this up. Why can't we start now?"

"Because, Mr. Potter, I have prior engagements and I do not plan on leaving a pair of Gryffindors in here unsupervised." He paused, and an expression that would have delight on anybody else crossed his face, "But I am not without compassion for someone in your… condition. Instead of reporting here tonight, you shall do so at ten o'clock tomorrow morning."

"But tomorrow's Madam Rosemerta's party!" Ron squeaked, then slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Indeed?" An eyebrow rose, "Well then, Mr. Potter and Mr. Thomas will just have to consider themselves banned."

Dean's face fell and he groaned. Harry, conversely, smirked.

"Dumbledore has given everyone special permission to go," Harry retorted, a little smugly, "You can't take it away."

Snape narrowed his eyes, "I can, Mr. Potter, and you know it."

The moment he said, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Harry paused for a moment, getting a confused sense of déjà vu. Then his eyes widened as memory rushed in.

"I'll raise my child on my own."  
  
"Harry -"  
  
"Oh don't worry. I'll be sure to tell my child who the bastard is that fathered him. That way he'll be able to spit on you if he ever has the misfortune of meeting you."  


"I don't think you should do this."

"You can't stop me."

"I can Harry, and you know it."

Harry had to acknowledge the truth of the other man's words, "But you wouldn't! You couldn't bear to see another innocent child die. You've seen too many killed and tortured. You don't have the heart to kill even an unborn baby. Especially not your own."

The other man avoided his eyes, "It's too dangerous for you to keep this child, Harry. When – not if, when_ – Voldemort finds out that you're pregnant, don't you think he'll do everything he can to get hold of you? And when he finds out that _I'm_ the father? He'll use me against you, Harry. He'll use sympathetic magic to get to the baby, and through it, to you. It doesn't matter what I want, or you want. It's just too dangerous to have that child."_

Harry approached his lover, staring up at him beseechingly, "We don't have to tell anybody that you're the father. You don't have to have anything to do with us, if that's what you're worried about. Not even Dumbledore knows about us; we could keep it that way. Just, please don't ask me to kill my baby." The other man didn't move, and Harry gripped his arm. "Please. No has to know."

The older man's expression softened, saddened. He covered Harry's hand with his own, briefly, before letting go and stepping away from him. His eyes filled with determination, "You're right Harry. No one _has to know."_

He pulled his wand from his sleeve and Harry backed away a step, hands instinctively going to cover his abdomen, "Severus?"

Severus regarded his young lover sadly, "I'm sorry Harry. Obliviate!_"_

It was all there. A summer's worth of memories full of his lover. But Harry could only think one thing: There was no Jason Phillips. There was only Severus Snape.

A man who had saved Harry countless times since Harry had entered the wizarding world. A man who had revealed himself to save Harry again at the beginning of the summer. A man who Harry had come to love. Who had come to love him, or so he had thought. A man Harry had still loved, even after his memories were altered.

A man who had betrayed Harry in the worst way possible.

"You _bastard_," Harry's mouth moved silently. There was a wealth of hurt and betrayal in his eyes, but no tears.

They didn't come until he was running out the door.

The tears blinded him as he ran, only seven years of familiarity guiding his feet. He fled up the dungeon stairs and tore through a clot of students the Entrance Hall without even slowing. The tears clouded his judgment as he leapt the missing step in the stairs closest to the infirmary. He stumbled as he landed, scraping his knee, but he simply got up again and sprinted the last few paces to his rooms. He slammed the door behind him, raced through the sitting room and threw himself onto his bed.

There, he curled on his side, both arms wrapped tightly about his belly, and gulped great lungfuls of air that had nothing to do with his mad flight and everything to do with the fact that he felt like he was drowning. His eyes were still burning, but they were dry now. He couldn't seem to summon the energy for more tears.

Though he tried to stop them, his entire being was consumed with reviewing all the memories that had come flooding back to him in that moment. He couldn't fathom why the memory charm had failed like that, but it had failed so completely that the false memories of Jason had been subsumed by the memories of _Severus,_ so that they were nothing but memories of memories.

__

…the moment Harry had realized who had stopped his fall from the cliff that first week; his anger at being 'babysat'; Snape ignoring him and walking off; Harry trying to provoke him out of hiding over the next days; succeeding in doing so when he swam almost half way to the mainland; spying on Snape on the cliffs and following him back to the cottage on the headland; encountering him in the bookstore, on the beach, in the fields; going back to the cottage to spy on him and getting caught; being ordered inside, expecting to be punished; being given lunch instead and told that Snape preferred that people not lurk around outside and that if he came back again, he would be expected to announce his presence, or be hexed; staying away for two days before curiosity and boredom got the better of him…

…going back the next day with a book to read while Snape worked on… something; learning how the man took his tea (strong, black, with lemon - dark and bitter and tart, like the man); going to the cottage earlier and earlier every day until Snape curtly told him he should just turn up for breakfast; turning up a little after dawn the next day with a basket of Mrs. Smythe's blueberry muffins; 'Snape' becoming 'Severus'; holding a conversation with no snipes or insults exchanged; winning an argument; being told to turn up at moonrise to help harvest moonflower pollen because if he was going to hang about, he might as well be useful; going on more expeditions to collect ingredients; the excursions ceasing to be about potions components and becoming about enjoying one another's company…

…the first time he'd kissed Severus; the first time Severus had kissed him back; falling asleep in his arms and waking up still in them; oblique endearments; signs of affection shared; hearing about Severus's uncle and his inheritance; convincing him to take Harry with him; Tintagel castle; the housekeeper winking broadly at him as she showed him to the mistress' rooms; their first time together, there, at the castle; that damned portrait sitting!_ Returning to the Isle of Wight in time for the midsummer celebrations; the beach, that night, probably the night his daughter was conceived; telling Severus that he loved him; understanding when he couldn't say the same; the lengths Severus went to to make his birthday the best day of his life; not needing to hear Severus say the words after that, simply _knowing _that he was loved; noticing that there was something wrong with himself; realizing that he was pregnant; his great fear almost eclipsing his joy; Severus telling him that he loved him; finally getting up the courage to tell Severus that he was pregnant…_

And then… then it all went blank, because Severus had wiped his memory of all that had transpired that summer, replacing himself with a fictional muggle _character_. But he hadn't completely succeeded, because Harry had remembered that he was angry at Severus, and he had remembered what he smelled like, and - the one thing Harry _sincerely_ wished he did not remember - he had remembered the love he felt.

And in the end, the spell hadn't worked at all, because Harry remembered it all now.

And Harry couldn't decide how he should feel. It had been bad enough when he had only remembered, loved and hated Jason. The actions of Jason, safe muggle Jason, _fictional_ Jason were so much easier to forgive. He was just a _boy_; not someone that had had to grow up years before his time, like Harry had. He was just a muggle; of course he couldn't be comfortable in the spotlight in a world he didn't understand.

But Severus…

Severus was a _wizard_, one who was not only almost two decades older than Harry but had also lead a harsher life. He didn't have the excuse of immaturity or ignorance. Harry thought that maybe he could have understood if Severus had taken the time to explain his reasoning to him. He _knew_ that he would have willing kept back the father's name to protect him. He probably would have forgiven him for rejecting both himself and their child. But Severus had denied him the chance to prove it to him. He had stolen Harry's memories from him.

He hadn't had faith in Harry. In Harry's love for him.

And that, alone, was possibly what hurt Harry the most. The fact that Harry was pregnant should have been proof positive that Harry loved him. _Was_ proof positive. But Severus was too… too untrusting, too paranoid, too _selfish_ to trust Harry.

* * * * * * *

The first contraction caught him by surprise, and he screamed at the sudden pain rippling through his abdomen. He had been so caught up in the vicious cycle of his thoughts, he hadn't even noticed his belly swelling under his hands, not even his robes pulled tight over it. The pain faded away, and Harry flopped onto his back, sucking air in through his teeth.

He bit his lip as pain twisted through his torso again. He fumbled at the clasps on his robe, desperate to ease some of the constriction. Something tore, and the halves of Harry's robes fell to the sides. When he brushed a hand over his stomach, trying to ease the fiercely cramping pain, his hand came away wet.

Harry gasped in panic, and tore at his school shirt, frantic to see what was wrong. The shirt ended up half open, tangled beneath his arms and Harry craned his head see the source of the wetness, but the bulge of his belly obstructed his view. Gingerly, he ran his fingers down over the lower curve of his stomach and felt it out. There was a… gash there, but it didn't hurt, and the edges were slick, not like a wound, more like the inside of a mouth. It was half the size of the palm of his hand, and Harry despaired. He was meant to give birth through _that?_

He had to get to the infirmary. He rolled to the edge of the bed and started to rise. A particularly vicious contraction struck and Harry cried out again…

* * * * * * *

AN: Sorry the chapter's so short. I have written most of the next, but the ending needs polishing, and I just wanted to get this one published. That, and I liked the idea of leaving you with a cliff hanger.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

AN: This chapter, as I promised ages ago, is dedicated to KittenBabyGirl, because her little girl is due around Easter too.

Thank you all for your wonderful reviews. I knew many of you had already guessed that Severus was the father. I'm just glad that none of you figured out about the obliviate. Except… _one_ person if I remember correctly. Kudos to you, whoever you were. ;)

One other thing. I'd like to reply to a review by **s**: thank you, actually, for responding to that [beep] who flamed me. I thought it was rather stupid too, that she would read something so clearly marked MPREG if she had something against it. *shrugs* I guess I'll just never understand people like that. But thanks for getting all fired up on my behalf. I just don't have the energy to reply to something like that.

But enough of that sort of boring stuff. Onto chapter fifteen: the BIRTH chapter!

Chapter Fifteen:

Hermione, Ron, Dean and Blaise heard Harry cry out as they entered his sitting room. The four froze, staring wide-eyed at each other for a moment before they broke and ran for his bedroom. Dean was the first one through the door and to Harry's side, helping him up from the floor.

"Harry, what happened?"

Still in the grips of the contraction, Harry bit his lip and shook his head. Ron was there by then, at Harry's other side and between them, he and Dean lifted Harry back to the bed.

"You're all wet, mate. Did you spill something when you fell?"

"_Idiots!_" Hermione and Blaise exclaimed in unison and Blaise continued as Hermione hurried to push Harry back on the bed. "He's in labour."

"He can't be!" Ron refuted.

"It's too early!" Dean clutched Harry's arm tightly, "You can't be giving birth yet. She's not due for another two weeks. It's not Easter yet!"

The contractions had subsided by then and Harry gave a wry snort, "I don't think she wants to wait 'til then, Dean. She's being pretty insistent."

Ron and Dean exchanged panicked looks across Harry, but Hermione already had the situation in hand. She'd checked over a prone Harry and now declared, "You're about four centimeters dilated Harry. That's pretty far if you only just went into labour." She paused and pinned Harry with a stern look, "You _did_ only just go into labour, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I was just getting up to go see Madam Pomfery when another contraction hit, and… well…"

"Right, well we're here now. Ron and Dean will carry you to the infirmary," Hermione tried to haul Harry upright by his arm. When that didn't succeed, she handed his arm to Ron and directed him to help his friend up. Not waiting to see if _he_ succeeded, she turned her back and hurried toward to door, taking Blaise with her, "I'm going ahead to warn Madam Pomfery, and help her if I can. Would you tell Professor McGonagall, Blaise? And Draco too! He'd kill us if we didn't. Quidditch practice would be over by now, wouldn't it? Maybe you should check his dorm first? And then maybe you should te-"

Blaise shut her up by simple expedient of covering her mouth, "Hermione. You just worry about telling Madam Pomfery and getting Harry comfortable in the infirmary. I'll tell everybody that should be there."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath between her friend's fingers and nodded. Blaise gave a decisive nod back and released her. With that, the two girls rushed from Harry's rooms off on their self-assigned tasks, leaving Dean and Ron behind them, struggling with transporting a rather shaky Harry.

* * * * * * *

Draco had had only time drop his broom and strip off one shin guard when Blaise came barreling into the seventh year boys dorm. Draco stared bewildered at her as the normally composed Slytherin girl hung from his bedpost, trying to catch enough breath to get out her words.

"Draco… gotta go…" she panted, "Harry's… baby…"

Draco's eyes narrowed, "What? Something's wrong with Harry's baby? What happened?" His hand had instinctively curled about his wand.

Blaise shook her head and took a deep breath, "Harryzinlabour."

Draco blinked. And blinked again as what she had said sunk in. Then, still in his quidditch robes and wearing only one shin guard, he took off out of the room, Blaise not one step behind him; Draco thought he might have tripped a first year on his way through the common room, but he didn't stop to confirm it.

The pair shoved the portrait open in to the faces of a stunned pair of third years and scrambled past them, racing through the dungeon corridors, impatient to reach the infirmary. They rounded a corner at a frantic pace, and Draco ran straight into a tall, black-robed figure. By main force of will, he kept his feet, and whirled on, shouting apologies over his shoulder. "Sorry Professor! Awful rush…" He heard Blaise mumble something similar behind him and they were nearly at the next corner before the cold voice froze them in their tracks.

"Malfoy. Zabini. Stop."

Reluctantly, Draco drew his lead foot back to join his other and took a deep breath. Slowly he turned around, a bland expression on his, "Professor Snape?"

Severus glared at his students. It was unlike Malfoy to be caught running in the halls.

He sneered, "Although I'm sure you have a very good reason for your 'awful rush', you -"

"Yes, sir," Draco interrupted, more interested in reaching the infirmary than placating his head of house, "We need to get to the infirmary. We promised Harry we'd all be there."

Severus narrowed his eyes, "Oh? And what trouble has Mr. Potter landed himself in this time that he needs you to hold his hand for him?"

Blaise, a normally reserved - towards him, at least - student, retorted, "He's in labour sir, so if we could be excused..?"

Not waiting for a reply, she started edging towards the corridor corner, Draco going with her. When the professor made no move to stop them, they started walking faster. And the moment they were out of sight around the bend, the pounding of running feet resumed and faded quickly in the distance.

* * * * * * *

Severus was staring blankly at the wall. Harry was in labour. With his daughter. He hadn't expected it for at least another two weeks. He certainly wasn't expecting it this afternoon, barely an hour after Harry had remembered that _he_, Severus, was the father.

Without noticing, Severus had started moving towards the stairs. By the time he realized, he was halfway up them already and he paused only a moment before continuing on. That was his child Harry was giving birth to, and - however mad Harry (rightfully) was at him, however much he hated him - Severus was going to be there, by Salazar! Appearances be damned. He was not going to sit in the dungeons with an ear to the Floo network, hoping to overhear any news.

The doors to the infirmary had already been warded against casual entry and Severus swept the wards aside like so many cobwebs. Just inside, a slightly harried looking Minerva was arguing with Harry's friends.

"We promised him we would be with him, Professor!" Weasley was pleading earnestly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley, but you'll just have to make an exception on this occasion-"

"Malfoys do not break their promises."

"Couldn't just one of us stay with him? He doesn't have anyone else!"

"I'm truly sorry Miss Granger, but we simply can't allow students in. If his godfather was here, it would be a different matter."

"But Black is too far away! He'll never get here in time."

Minerva raised her voice, "There's nothing I can do about that. Rest assured that Mr. Potter will be in the best of care. Now I must ask you to all wait outside. You can-"

She was drowned out by a chorus of protests.

Severus ignored the group as thoroughly as he himself was ignored and swept down the ward towards the makeshift delivery room at the end.

It smelt sterile. Severus curled his lip at the obvious overuse of antiseptic potions to sterilize the room. Poppy Pomfery stood at a sink on one side of the room, pouring more potions over her instruments, wand and hands. The ubiquitous curtain obscured the other side of the room. Severus headed for it, but not before the matron noticed him.

"Severus, what are you doing he- Severus, you can't go back there, Mr. Potter is- Severus!"

Severus ignored her, knowing she couldn't leave the sink just yet, or she'd undo all the work she just done sterilizing herself. As he rounded the curtain, Severus swiftly cast an adequate - if hasty - antibacterial charm on himself. Then he stopped.

Harry lay propped on a narrow table, a thin cotton hospital robe bunched beneath his arms. His legs were spread in stirrups and his boxers were pulled so low they barely covered his groin. The birth canal opening low on his belly was weeping copious amounts of a fluid Harry didn't know the name of, and dearly hoped was normal. His chest heaved as he sought to regain his breath after the last contraction, and sweat was beginning to sting his eyes. All in all, he felt it was the most ignominious position he'd ever been in.

It certainly wasn't one he wanted Severus Snape to see him in - not as his Potions Master, and certainly not as his ex-lover with whom he was incredibly angry at the moment. Which wasn't helped by the fact that he was in pain - physical pain that was at least on a par with the Cruciatus 

curse, if not worse, in Harry's opinion. That particular Unforgivable had obviously been designed by a woman. With many children.

"I hate you." It was astonishing just how Harry managed to hiss that phrase when it had no sibilants.

Severus nodded his agreement, but said nothing. He was staring at Harry: his skin taut across his straining belly, his face flushed and his hair in disarray, even for his norm. His lips were bitten red, and, though his eyes were hazed with pain, they sparked with true anger. His hands were white-knuckled as they clung to the bed, though whether in pain or anger, Severus couldn't tell.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Harry spat, "I told you I hate you."

"I know," Severus replied sadly, softly and took a step towards the bed.

Harry glared hotly, covering a flinch, "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Severus couldn't meet his glare. He looked significantly at Harry's belly instead and took another step closer. "You're giving birth. I felt I should be here."

"You don't have any right to be here." _'Not after the way you treated me,' _was left unsaid.

"I don't," Severus agreed and edged closer, " I was hoping you'd be _magnanimous _enough to allow me to remain."

"Trying to assuage your guilt?"

"Yes," Severus calmly replied, "I am." He plucked Harry's nearer hand from the bed and wrapped his cool fingers about the younger man's.

Harry tensed and began to pull away, but another contraction consumed him: Harry's hand spasmed about Severus's, and the Gryffindor yowled. Severus bit his tongue to stop his own gasp of pain as his fingers were crushed. Madam Pomfery appeared around the curtain and opened her mouth to banish Severus. The expression on Harry's face distracted her attention before she could say anything.

"Don't you dare push, Harry Potter!" She hurried to the other side of the bed and grasped Harry's chin her hand, forcing him to look at her, "You're not to push until I tell you to. You could break your daughter's neck."

The pressure on his hand intensified, but Severus couldn't decide if that was because Harry had tightened his grip at the matron's words, or because he had. Madam Pomfery released Harry's chin and bent over his stomach, checking, Severus presumed, his dilation. Harry turned his head to look at him.

"I hate you," he reiterated, "This is all your fault."

Severus smirked thinly in reply.

"Severus," Poppy snapped, and Severus glared at her, expecting her to try and see him off again. She surprised him with an annoyed look and abrupt gesture, "If you refuse to leave, you can at least make yourself useful. Between contractions, give him a drink of that potion -" Severus followed her gesture to a bench on his side of the bed and the flask it held. Next to it was a shallow bowl of water and a small towel. "- only sips mind you - it'll extend his energy."

"And during the contractions?" Severus asked as he fumbled one-handed for the flask. Harry now refused to let go of his other hand - rather perversely, Severus thought.

"You just hold on." Severus didn't much like the smile Poppy shot him.

He prized the cork free of the flask with his teeth and spat it onto the bench. Holding it to Harry's lips, he ignored the young man's glare. "Drink it Harry. It'll taste like piss, but at least you'll be awake to see your daughter born."

Harry swallowed dutifully, but the moment his mouth was free, he hissed, "That's right. _My_ daughter."

Severus hid his sigh by turning away to set the flask down. He picked up the towel instead and returned to swipe the sweat from Harry's forehead, still not meeting his eyes. Harry yanked on Severus's hand and opened his mouth say something further, but what emerged was a hiss as another contraction started. It was shortly followed by a colourful description of Severus's supposed sex life, apparently much of it with Hagrid's menagerie.

Minerva entered the room in the middle of Harry's tirade, and it was an even bet which shocked her more: Harry's language or Severus's presence. She knew better than to take umbrage at the young man's language at a time like this however, so she turned her attention to Severus's presence. She peered over the top of her glasses at him in and opened her mouth, clearly about to tell him to remove himself. Poppy caught her arm.

"Leave him," Severus heard her say, "If Harry's abusing him, he's not abusing us."

Minerva looked askance at first Poppy and then Severus, but she just shook her head and looked to the medi-witch for instruction.

"You've sterilized your hands and wand? Good. Then I need you to-"

* * * * * * *

What followed was five hours of almost continuous verbal abuse, in which not only Severus's sexual acts were questioned, but his ancestry, his personal hygiene and his intelligence. He was cursed with everything from piles to hair loss. At one point, death threats had been made, but they paled in comparison to the promised torture sessions. The only thing Harry didn't curse was he descendents - for obvious reasons. Neither did he make any allusions to the fact that this was Severus's child being born.

Until, that is, the end.

Minerva had departed, carrying an armful of implements to be cleaned, and Severus was helping Harry to sit up further. Madam Pomfery had just finished wrapping the newborn infant securely in a blanket, and she placed the pink wrapped bundle on Harry's chest, his free arm coming up automatically to cradle it. He was staring in awe at the child, as though she was the most beautiful thing in existence; as Severus peered down at the squalling, red-faced, blotchy, hair-less little thing, he had to admit: he was hard pressed to thing of anything that exceeded her, either.

Harry let go of Severus's hand for the first time in almost six hours and tentatively stroked her cheek. "See? This is what you wanted me to get rid of."

Severus froze in the middle of shaking the feeling back into his hand, "Harry, I -"

But it was too late: Harry had sagged lifelessly back into the pillows, his breathing shallow. On his chest, the tiny girl still screamed to the best of her tiny lungs. Terrified she would fall, Severus snatched her up, bawling for Madam Pomfery.

She appeared at a run around the curtains, "What on earth is the matter, Severus?"

"What's wrong with Potter?" he snapped. "One moment he was awake and now -"

Poppy laughed and Severus turned his best glare on her. She was unfazed, "He 's exhausted. He just spent six hours bringing that little bundle of joy into the world. I think he'd entitled to a nap, don't you?"

She shooed him away from the bed, "Make yourself useful once more, and take little Miss Potter out to Minerva so she can get her cleaned up. I'll see to cleaning Harry up myself."

Severus retreated, clutching the gently squirming bundle to his chest. Stupid boy, giving him a fright like that. He carried the baby over to Minerva where she had the sink half filled with lukewarm water and the air just as warm and humid.

"Ah, Severus, you have young Miss Potter. Good." Minerva smiled tiredly at him. "First thing's first." She gestured for Severus to hand her over. He hesitated a moment before reluctantly relinquishing her. Minerva immediately turned and laid her down in a small concavity by the sink and folded the soft blanket away from her, "We need to weigh and measure her."

Minerva pushed a parchment and a quill in Severus's direction, "Write this down for me: Birth weight, seven pounds, five ounces - a little under weight, but healthy for two weeks premature. Length, 49 centimeters. Time of birth -" Minerva paused and consulted a scrap of parchment beside her, "eleven-seventeen on Friday the third of April." She hummed a little under her breath, "Friday's child is loving and giving…"

Severus tuned her out. He robotically scratched down the information he was given, darting his gaze constantly to the still crying infant. Minerva appeared to be ignoring her wails. Instead she'd picked her up, cradling her carefully, and dipped her in to the lukewarm water, washing away the residue of birth fluids.

"Surely she shouldn't be crying like that," Severus snapped irritably.

Still humming lightly, Minerva blithely replied, "She's just hungry and confused. Once she's fed, she'll quieten down and go to sleep."

"Then fed her!" Severus demanded.

Minerva shot him an annoyed glance, "Severus, both Poppy and I appreciated your assistance during the birth, but I don't really think there's anything more you can do. Why don't you go back to your rooms? Take a bath perhaps. You seem to have sweated almost as badly as Mr. Potter."

Severus glared and opened his move to retort. He closed it again when he realized he didn't have anything say. He glared harder at Minerva, but she was no longer paying any attention to him; she was cooing to the new born little girl.

He snarled silently and pivoted on his heel, storming out of the room. He gave in to the petty urge to slam closed the Infirmary door as he stepped into the hall. That had the unfortunate effect of startling awake Harry's cohorts. They all immediately leapt to their feet, blocking the corridor. Severus ratcheted up his glare, but it was ignored.

"Professor! Were you just in the infirmary? Do you know if Harry's okay? Has he given birth yet? Is the baby okay? Can we go in and see him?"

Severus hissed at the babble of questions and pushed through the clot, "You've all been docked ten points each for being out after curfew. Now get out of my way!"

* * * * * * *

It was well past midnight, closer to dawn. The only beings awake in the school were Minerva McGonagall, the Bloody Baron, Sir Nick, Peeves the poltergeist, Mrs Norris… And Severus Snape.

He was in the infirmary, watching the newborn baby sleep.

There wasn't much to see of her, wrapped tightly as she was in a horrid pink blanket right up to her chin. Severus wasn't sure why Poppy had wrapped her so closely: there was a charm on the crib to keep it at the perfect body temperature. He freely admitted his ignorance of infants, however, and wasn't about to loosen the blanket the matron had tucked so securely about her. At least he told himself that was the reason he wasn't reaching in to the crib, not that he was afraid to touch her.

She wasn't his.

Of course, she was his flesh-and-blood, but not _his_. Harry had made that clear, and Severus knew it was true; he'd given up any claim to her the moment he denied Harry his memories.

She was beautiful, what little he could see of her in the dim light of the infirmary. The broad, smooth forehead, the dusting of almost invisible black hair. The pert nose and red cheeks. The tiny pink lips that pouted and moved every now and then, as though searching. Her eyes were blue-grey, Severus remembered, huge, shimmering things that Severus thought would change as she grew older. Probably to green.

He remembered the rest of her too, from the brief glimpse he'd had when she was measured and bathed: legs that seemed almost disproportionately long, arms to match. A smooth belly with no navel, a telling sign of a male pregnancy. Her skin, so red and blotchy so soon after birth, but so soft and warm to touch. Her hands and feet, so perfect in miniature. Her fingernails, which fascinated Severus. She was, from the moment of her birth, a complete human being.

And Severus was afraid of her becoming his whole world, when he knew she wasn't his.

He knew he shouldn't be here, that he was simply tormenting himself with something that he was denied and that he denied himself.

He promised himself that this would be the only time he did this.

He consoled himself that he would have at least this time.

Her mouthed worked, searching for an absent teat, and she frowned. Severus frowned in sympathy. He gave in to his desire to touch her and reached out to smooth her tiny forehead.

"There is no Jason Phillips, is there Severus?"

Severus stiffened and drew back his hand without stroking the baby's forehead. He clenched his fists at his side and stared fixedly at the sleeping child, not acknowledging Minerva's presence, wishing she'd go away.

She didn't. She stepped up to the crib, and where Severus had dared not, she loosened the blanket a little. She stroked a finger down the baby's cheek and ran her thumb across her lips. Severus bit his tongue in bitter jealousy but didn't move.

Minerva turned the baby on her side, and she grizzled. Severus cursed the woman silently, wanting her gone, wanting her gone, wanting to be alone with his…

Severus refused to leave, refused to be chased away.

Minerva stroked the child's back until she settled. She withdrew her hands; resting them instead on the edge of the crib, content to simply watch her now. Long she stood, and Severus' jaw soon ached with clenching.

Eventually, Minerva transferred her gaze, and Severus could feel it as a physical force. He ignored her still.

With one last caress to the child's cheek, Minerva turned to Severus and laid a hand on his arm.

"You have a beautiful daughter Severus."

She squeezed his arm and left the infirmary. Severus clenched his jaw tighter, and was sure he heard his teeth creak under the pressure.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen:

"She's so beautiful," Hermione cooed, hanging over her boyfriend's shoulder staring at the pink wrapped bundle he held.

Harry smiled proudly.

His friends had turned up at the insanely early hour of six that morning. But that was okay. Harry had woken up at least two hours earlier when his daughter had started to fret. Madam Pomfery had shown him how to hold her and feed her. Once she had been satisfied he could cope, she returned to her bed, admonishing him to call her if there was the slightest thing wrong.

Hunger satiated and duly burped, Harry's daughter soon fell asleep again, and Harry was more than content to watch her. An hour and half later, he was disturbed by not-so-quiet tip-topping and very loud whispering.

"Where is she?"

"There's the crib…"

There was a concerted shuffling of feet.

"It's empty."

"Where's Harry then?"

"In the room at the back."

"She's probably with him."

"Let's go then."

Something scraped heavily across the floor and a male voice cursed.

"Shhhh! You'll wake someone up!"

"I didn't mean to. My robe got caught."

"Honestly, Ron! Anybody'd think yo-"

"Both of you shut up. Unless you want Madam Pomfery in here breathing down our necks?"

There was a short silence, followed by a "thank you" and then an almost inaudible "bloody Slytherins", a thump, an "OW!" and another "Honestly, Ron!"

When their heads appeared around the door jamb, Harry was smirking at them. With chagrined little smiles, they filed into the room. Their expressions soon changed when they saw the little pink bundled tucked carefully at Harry's side.

The five of them had been there ever since, the girls quizzing him on the birth, and the guys shuddering at the descriptions, Dean in particular. When his daughter had woken up half an hour ago, he'd allowed Ron to feed her. Hermione then volunteered to change her and, with much input from Blaise, managed to get her new nappy properly folded and secured. Since then, she'd been passed from one to another, and Harry hadn't had the chance to hold her since she'd woken up. Not that he minded overly.

"Okay," Dean held out his arms for her, gesturing imperiously, "You've had her for long enough, Draco. It's my turn."

For a moment, Draco looked as though he was going to refuse, but then he sighed. "Just don't drop her," he hissed as he carefully transferred her into Dean's embrace. Dean simply rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the bed, next to Harry.

"Hello darling," he cooed, "I'm your Uncle Dean." The little girl stared hazily up at him and slowly blinked. Dean turned his attention to Harry.

"When will you be able to leave the infirmary?"

Harry shrugged and went to answer, but at that moment the door opened to admit Professor Dumbledore and the House Heads. Ron and Blaise, who had been leaning against the wall, shuffled out of the way as Professor Snape stalked past them towards the corner. Professors McGonagall and Sprout stopped at the foot of the bed, and Professor Flitwick hurried over to peer at the bundle in Dean's arms.

Professor Dumbledore smiled benevolently at the occupants of the room, his gaze coming to rest last on Harry. "Ah Harry. How are you this morning?" Without waiting for an answer, his gaze moved on, "And this must be our newest resident. May I?"

At Harry's nod, Dumbledore pulled back a fold of blanket that had been obscuring the baby's face. His smile broadened and he twinkled, "she is indeed perfect. You must be very proud of her." Dumbledore smiled into Harry's eyes. His gaze darted off to the side and he straightened.

"But delightful as it is to meet your little girl, I must admit that was not our official reason in visiting you this morning. We," he included the other professors in his gesture, "are here to help you prepare of the Naming Ceremony, and answer any last minute questions you might have."

Harry sat up straight and crossed his arms, a little mutinously, over his chest. He'd come to this decision sometime early this morning and, although he knew it wasn't rational, he was sticking to it.

"I'm not going to do a Naming Ceremony."

For at least twenty seconds, there was silence in the room. Then, almost simultaneously, Harry's friends got their voices back, and began demanding explanations and telling him he was an idiot. Dumbledore's quiet voice cut through the babble.

"It is getting late," he said slowly, "The house elves will be clearing away breakfast soon. It is a long time until lunch."

Ron, Draco, Hermione, Blaise and Dean took his mildly worded suggestion for the order it was. With apologetic glances they began to file out of the room. Dean turned to hand Harry his daughter, but Harry stopped him with a hand on his arm. He wasn't too much of a Gryffindor to admit he needed moral support. Dean caught the plea in his eyes. He nodded and perched himself on the edge of the bed.

From the corner, Professor Snape snarled, "You were told you leave, Thomas."

Harry glared at him, "He was not. Besides, I want him here."

Dumbledore forestalled Snape's retort, "If you wish him to remain, Harry, that's quite alright.'

He settled himself on the end of Harry's bed, reaching a hand out between himself and Harry, half in supplication, half for support.

"Now Harry, I'm not sure that anyone explained the importance of the Naming Ceremony to you. It is vital that a child be named as soon-"

"I _do_ know, sir," Harry interrupted. "Hermione made me read an entire book on it."

There was a dark growl from the corner, "Then what imbecilic conceit prompts you to put your spawn 's life in danger, Potter? Or is this just another bid for attention, this time at the expense of your progeny."

Harry snarled and scrabbled on the bedside table for his wand, "Don't you _ever_ refer to my daughter as spawn, you hypocritical bastard! You have no right to judge me or to question my reasons! You just -"

Dumbledore gently pressed Harry's wand hand down on to the bed. "Professor Snape did not mean to insult your daughter or yourself, Harry. He is simply concerned about the welfare of this beautiful little girl." - Harry couldn't hold in a snort at that - "But he asks a valid question.

"Harry, if you understand the importance of the ceremony, why are you so set against it?"

Harry refused to meet anyone's eye as he plucked at the bedspread.

"I just don't think she'd be in that much danger. I mean, Voldemort's out of the picture, so there's no danger from him. And Hogwarts is heavily warded anyway, and there's even more wards on my rooms. Besides, she'll never be alone with anyone I don't trust implicitly."

Professor McGonagall broke the short silence, "Harry, even supposing you were correct - even supposing she'd be in no danger - you can't leave her without a name."

"I wouldn't!" Harry insisted, "It'd just be until…"

"Until what, Harry?" his house head asked kindly.

"Until her father acknowledges her," Harry met his professor's gaze challengingly. He should have been surprised to see understanding there, but he wasn't: after all, she _had_ been there for the entire birth.

"Harry?" Dean asked hesitantly, "I thought you didn't want Jason to have anything to do with her."

Harry blinked. He turned to his friend and reached out to touch his daughter's head, "It was him that wanted nothing to do with us. Who am I to disagree? I just want him to acknowledge that she exists."

"But Harry," Professor Flitwick squeaked, speaking up for the first time, "surely the Naming Ceremony shouldn't rely on whether or not this Jason Phillips will acknowledge his daughter. After all, he is a muggle. He couldn't possibly understand the importance of the Ceremony."

"Even so, he'll know that you can't leave a child un-named. I only want him to choose that."

"The famous Potter arrogance strikes again. Don't tell me: you never bothered to choose a name."

Harry ignored Snape's sneering tone. He took his daughter from Dean and cradled her against his chest. It was to her he addressed his words.

"No, I have a name all picked out for you, don't I, my darling? But," he turned his head slightly, glancing in Snape's direction, "I'll have plenty of chances to give her things. I just thought it would be nice if she had something other than a blanket from her other father. Something to convince her it wasn't her fault he didn't want her."

Harry didn't give anyone a chance to react. He settled his daughter on the bed beside him and turned his back on the room. "I think I'd like to be alone now."

Dumbledore patted his foot and stood up, "I'll send Madam Pomfery in later with some breakfast for you."

Dean squeezed his shoulder and stood up too. There was a general shuffling of feet in the direction of the door and a moment later it closed. Harry didn't relax though. There was still someone in the room with him.

"Potter, you're a fool. You are putting your daughter at risk with this idiotic stunt of yours."

Harry gritted his teeth, "Get out Snape. I have nothing to say to you until you have a name to give her."

"Don't be such a drama queen, you juvenile little troglodyte."

Harry closed his eyes, "Get out Se- Snape."

There was a sharp silence. Then, with a snap of his cloak, Snape whirled and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him. The sound startled the little girl and she started to grizzle. Harry dropped a kiss on her forehead. He rubbed her back soothingly, "Don't you worry about him, baby. He's just a heartless bastard."

* * *

"'Okay'? Just… 'okay'?" 

Harry peered suspiciously at his godfather as the man leant over the cradle, admiring his granddaughter. Sirius cooed at her and glanced at Harry, asking permission to pick her up. Harry nodded shortly, "Siri? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Sirius sighed and, cradling his precious bundle close, he settled himself in the rocking chair. "What do you want me to say, Harry? Or rather, what do you _expect_ me to say?"

Harry shrugged and looked away. He was perched on the wide window ledge in his daughter's nursery. She was three days old now, and already Harry couldn't imagine life without her. (Sleep was also fast becoming a dim memory.) Today was the first time Sirius had met her, the first time he'd been able to safely slip into Hogwarts. Harry had just told him that he'd decided not to name his daughter just yet. All Sirius had said was 'okay'."

"I thought you'd call me a bloody idiot, and tell me I was foolishly risking her safety. That I was being selfish and melodramatic."

Sirius looked up sharply, "Who told you that?"

Harry refused to meet his eye. "Nobody. Everybody."

Sirius gazed at him shrewdly for a long moment before dismissing Harry's ambiguous answer. "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks anyway. She's your daughter, Harry. If you feel you want to wait before going through with the naming ceremony, than that's what you should do."

"You really think that?"

"Sure! Besides, I don't see how she could possibly be in any danger. Voldemort's dead -" Sirius paused and cocked his head "- or as good as anyway. And there's few places in Britain that are safer than Hogwarts."

"So you think I'm doing the right thing?" Harry cringed inwardly, hoping Sirius didn't think he sounded to pathetically in need of reassurance.

"I'm not a father Harry. I can't answer that conclusively. All I can tell you is I think it was good of you to inform this Jason bloke of his daughter's birth... Even if he is a worthless crock of shit with commitment issues that doesn't know a good thing when it lands in his lap." The last was said under his breath and Harry decided to pretend he hadn't heard.

"Besides," Sirius continued in a normal tone, "You weren't named until you were a week old, and there's nothing wrong with you, now is there?"

"What?"

"Yep. Lily refused to go through with the ceremony when you were born. Said that the name they had picked out for a boy was all wrong for you."

"What was it?"

"Charlemagne." Sirius smirked when Harry spluttered. "That was pretty much my reaction too. Good thing Lily changed her mind. It just doesn't have the same ring to it: 'Charlemagne Potter, the Boy Who Lived'."

Harry was spluttering again, this time with laughter.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

A/N: Wow. It's been months since I've updated this. I'd love to say I have a great excuse for that. The truth of the matter is that I don't. L It wasn't even really writer's block. I had most of this jotted down as a first draft in a notebook from my trip to China last June. So I guess the only thing I can put it down to is extreme laziness in actually getting around to polishing the chapter. So… anyway, here it is. I'm hoping it won't take me as long to get the next chapter out. And sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long.

And, most importantly, thank you for all the wonderful reviews.

**Chapter Seventeen:**

"There have been stirrings among the dark wizards. Rumours… that someone maybe attempting to replace Voldemort." Albus peered sideways at Severus as the pair walked down the hall. "It would seem we are not out of the woods just yet."

Severus grunted.

Albus clasped his hands behind his back. "It would be a great relief if Harry were to name his daughter. I worry terribly that something awful might happen to the little girl."

Severus stopped. He folded his arms tightly - defensively - across his chest and stared fixedly at the statue of Morgana before him. "Are you going somewhere with this, Albus?"

Albus blinked in feigned surprise and did a creditable job of hiding his twinkle. "I'm just an old man unburdening himself to a trusted friend. Surely you can forgive an old man that, Severus?"

Severus snarled. "You may be an old man, but you are not a fool Albus. Neither am I. I had thought Potter could be excluded from that number as well, but apparently I was mistaken." He rounded on the Headmaster, "As are you if you think Potter would listen to me, his most despised professor, where he won't listen to you, his friends or his god-mutt." Severus turned on his heel and stalked towards his dungeons. He pretended not to hear the Headmaster's last words.

"We both know there's only one person that Harry will listen to right now. And Severus, I know as well as you do who that person is."

* * *

Severus paused in the doorway, glaring at the figure by the crib. His mouth was already opening to snap a snide and defensive comment when he realised that both the occupants of the room were safely asleep. Severus stared, debating whether or not to turn and leave. He had no desire to be discovered here: his intentions could well be misconstrued. _Would_ be if that over-emotional boy woke up to find him standing there like a half-wit, wand hanging loosely from his hand. 

Severus brought his wand up in a fast flick and threw a gentle _"somnus"_ over the boy, ensuring he would not wake inconveniently.

Confident that he would not, Severus allowed himself to really look at the boy for the first time since the school year had started. He looked… miserable was the only word that came to Severus mind, though he tried to deny it. Harry was curled in his rocking chair, his knees tucked against his chest in a foetal position. The only open thing about him was the arm that draped over the side of the crib, his fingers just grazing his daughter's leg. Harry's other hand clutched a blanket in his lap. Severus peered closer. A… _green_ blanket. With silver lightning bolts.

Severus sneered and turned away. He edged nearer to the crib, peering in. Not a flicker betrayed him when he looked down at the blissfully sleeping baby.

Severus was not sure how long he stood there, mesmerized by the sleeping child, but the moon shadows had stretched to his feet before he could bring himself to leave.

It was only as he turned to do so that he saw Harry's face. The corners of the young man's mouth turned down just slightly, and his bottom lip looked as though it had been gnawed upon recently. Down his cheek there was a faint tear track.

Severus felt a sudden stab of guilt. He reared back with a sneer.

He shouldn't feel guilt: there was nothing to fell guilty about. He had done the right thing by cutting all ties. It had been – and still was – too dangerous for he and Harry to have anything remotely resembling a relationship. The fact that there was the baby to consider now just made it all the worse. It was best for all three of them if things stayed the way they were and Severus stayed out of Harry's life and as far away from the child as possible.

Severus dearly wanted to hex Harry for doing this to him. Instead, he left the room quietly, lifting the _somnus_ as he went.

And if, as he closed the door after him, he muttered _calefacto,_ ensuring the nursery and its inhabitants would stay pleasantly warm all night… well. There was no one to hear him.

* * *

"Oh, _Harry_, she's _beautiful_!" 

"She's so _tiny_!"

"Look at her little hands!"

"May I hold her when she's finished feeding?"

Harry pretended not to hear Padma's question as he bent over his daughter. She was eighteen days old now, and Madam Pomfery had deemed them both strong enough to venture out of their rooms. The fact that half the female population was gathered around cooing at her didn't seem to faze Harry's daughter in the least. She was quite content to lie in her father's arms and suck on her bottle.

"She's _so_ adorable!" Lisa Turpin rhapsodised in Harry's ear. He was grateful when Blaise none-too-subtly elbowed Lisa out of the way. Harry glanced up to find that his friends were insinuating themselves between the fawning crown and he and his daughter. He shot them a grateful grin.

Unfortunately, raising his head allowed Lavender to catch his gaze.

"She looks just like you, Harry!" – He didn't think so: her bone structure and hands were too fine to have come from him – "What did you say her name was?"

Harry's face went blank. "I didn't," he said matter-of-factly.

"Oh," Lavender said, but wasn't deterred. "Well then, what _is_ her name?"

Harry met and held her eyes as he answered, "She doesn't have one."

There was a sharp silence and everybody turned to stare at him. The baby finished her bottle and released the teat, drawing Harry's attention. He set the empty bottle aside and raised her to his shoulder to burp her.

"But Harry, you _have_ to name her!"

A black shape loomed at the edge of the gaggle of girls; Harry eyed Snape from the corner of his vision and deliberately raised his voice as he answered.

"No, I did the hard part. Now it's up to her father to name her."

Some of the muggleborn girls cooed, thinking it romantic. The others, however, were still regarding him in shock. Pansy Parkinson said, "Potter… you _do _realise that it's actually dangerous to leave your baby unnamed?"

Harry barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes, "Yes, I know all about the effect the Naming Ceremony has on the child's development. I also know that this is Hogwart's and that Voldemort is dead. Besides, it's not like she'll ever be without me or someone I trust with her."

No one really had anything to say to that, and there was another short silence. Parvati Patil broke it, chirping, "So Harry. May I hold her?"

Harry stiffened, and had opened his mouth to refuse when he saw Snape glaring menacingly at Parvati. Staring directly at the man, spite made Harry say, "Of course you can, Parvati. With only one parent, she needs all the love and attention she can get. Just be careful of her head."

The look Severus shot Harry before he turned and swooped away was positively murderous. Harry allowed himself a small smirk, ignoring Parvati's gleeful response. He did however return his attention in time to prevent his daughter being handed on to Dennis Creevey. He retrieved her and jealously cradled her against his chest, tucking her into the baby sling he wore.

At that point, Hermione and Blaise began shooing the crowd away, insisting that Harry needed to eat breakfast and that he didn't need an audience for that.

* * *

It was harder than he'd thought it would be, Harry discovered: juggling class-work and a newborn. He had to sit right at the front of each class now, right under the professors' noses. Dumbledore said it was so that they could stop him making mistakes that might endanger his daughter – Harry secretly thought just as much to stop the other students from distracting themselves over his daughter. He'd had to drop CoMC altogether. It just wasn't safe with all those creatures Hagrid brought in. 

She slept so much that Harry though it would be easy for him to pay attention and take the notes he needed. He hadn't taken into account the fact that, not only did she not follow a set pattern of sleep, there were also noises away from the quiet of their rooms that would ensure she would wake up. Often. And then cry. The first few days back, Harry found himself spending more time out in the corridor trying to soothe her back to sleep than he actually spent behind a desk.

Then he had to feed and burp her. Often to the accompaniment of snickers (from the boys) and coos (from the girls). Not to mention changing her. Professor Flitwick had lost his classroom for a whole afternoon due a mishap: the smell was just too noxious for even Filch to eradicate.

His professors were all very understanding about the situation. With one notable exception.

By Wednesday afternoon, Harry was tired and so was his daughter. He was in no way looking forward to sitting through double potions. He hadn't been back to that classroom since the day his daughter was born; the day he remembered.

Harry lingered in the hall as he could. Hermione and Draco cast him curious glances as they filed past him into the classroom. The bell rang, and still Harry couldn't bring himself to enter.

Eventually, Hermione came back out into the hall.

"Harry?" She asked, her voice thick with worry, "Is everything okay?"

Harry lied, "Everything's fine, 'Mione. I just wanted to make sure my girl was safely asleep before I went in. Wouldn't want her to wake up and disrupt Snape's class."

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Okay. If you're sure."

"I am," Harry steeled himself and marched past her through the door, "Let's go."

"So glad you could join us, Mr. Potter," Snape sniped without turning away from the board. Harry didn't reply; instead he sat down, arranging himself and his daughter comfortably.

"Now that everybody is here, I can finally begin today's lesson," Snape turned away from the board, "Please open your texts to page 746 and-"

Snape stopped, and stared fixedly at the bundle in Harry's arms.

"What do you think you are playing at Potter?" he said in a strangled voice.

Harry blinked in genuine confusion. "Nothing… sir."

Snape's arm came up and he pointed rudely at Harry's daughter. "Your child. Why is it in my classroom?"

Harry stiffened and wrapped his arms protectively about his baby. "I have to go to class sir, and I can hardly leave her by herself. None of the other professors had a problem with her."

Snape jerkily moved across the room to loom over Harry's desk.

"I don't care if the other professors have allowed you to bring your whelp into their classrooms," he snarled. "This is Potions. There are hundreds of dangerous substances in here. You are not going to bring my -" Harry sucked in a shocked breath and he could see, _see_, Severus fumbling to cover his slip "- _my_ class to a halt just because you've poisoned your child! I _will not_ be responsible for her safety!"

"No," Harry sneered, "No, you won't, will you?" Harry turned on his heel and stormed towards the door, cradling his fretting daughter closer.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Potter."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir. I was just removing my daughter from your classroom." Harry retorted snidely.

Severus hissed. "Right. That's it. Thirty points from Gryffindor for insufferable insolence. And you will be here at seven o'clock tonight to serve detention."

Harry turned to look over his shoulder at the professor. "Can we make it seven-thirty?" he asked sweetly, "It's just that that's when I put _my_ daughter to bed, and she won't go down for anybody but her _father_."

"Another twenty points for backchat. And you will be here promptly at seven-thirty for the next three nights."

TBC


	18. Chapter Eighteen

A/N: See? I told you I'd update sooner. How's that for soon? And thank you for all the wonderful reviews and encouragement to continue I got last chapter.

Chapter Eighteen:

Severus's fingers drummed dully on the desktop. It was 7:46 pm. Potter was late. Severus was certain the boy was doing it just to rile him. He glared at the clock again. 7:48pm. He would give him two more minutes and then he was going after him.

Severus was already on his way out the door when the clock's minute hand ticked over to 7:50 pm. He stormed towards the boy's rooms, becoming more irate when every corner turned failed to reveal the Gryffindor hurrying to the dungeons for his detention. Reaching the Infirmary corridor, Severus didn't bother to knock politely at Potter's door: he snarled his override password as a House head and slammed into the suite.

Two strides in, he froze. Something was wrong. The still form of the Weasley chit in front of the nursery door was testament to that. She had been petrified in a state of defense: her eyes were still wide with fear, and anger sparked in their depths.

The nursery door was ajar, and the room beyond was heart-rendingly silent.

In his rush to reach the room, Severus leapt over Ginny, paying her no mind. His eyes darted frantically around the room, taking in its state of disarray and coming to rest on the cradle. The painfully _empty_ cradle. It hung askew, the blankets spilling over the side. Severus's heart clenched.

Lying in a heap at the base of the cradle was Harry, his wand gripped in a white-knuckled hand. Severus fell to one knee beside him and gently turned him onto his back. Harry's face was slack, and pale except for the top of his right cheek. It was purple, swollen and split, and when Severus touched his temple, his hand came away wet with blood.

Severus cursed vehemently. He wanted to destroy whoever had done this to Harry… whoever had taken _his_ daughter.

Severus whipped off his robes and settled them over Harry. He pried the younger man's wand from his fingers and pocketed it. That done, Severus left him lying there and returned to the main room, intent on reviving Ginny Weasley.

Standing over her prone form, Severus cast _finite incantatum_ and, almost before she'd managed to shake off the _petrificus totalus_, he grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet, demanding to know what happened.

"Lucius Malfoy," she gasped, "I don't know how he got in, but he was halfway across the room before we even realised he was there. I pushed Harry into the nursery and turned to block the doorway -" Ginny paused, and bit her lip, "The bastard petrified me before I could even get my wand up.

"He kicked my out of the way," she winced in remembered pain and rubbed her side, "And followed Harry into the nursery. I could hear them dueling: Harry must have held out for at least ten minutes. Then there was this thump. And the baby started wailing. Then everything went silent. A couple of minutes later, Malfoy came back out. He was holding Harry's little girl in one arm like a rag doll."

Severus's grip on the girl's arm was tight enough to bruise, "How long ago was this? How long has he had her?"

Ginny bit her lip, "Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty."

A small wounded sound escaped Severus's throat, and he pushed Ginny away from him. He went back into the nursery and swooped down on Harry, pulling a hair from the unconscious man's head. Straightening, he pulled another hair from his own head and wound them both around his wand. Balancing the wand in the palm of his hand, Severus commanded, "_Point me_." The wand spun in his hand and settled pointing out the door, as Severus knew it initially would.

He followed it out of the nursery and across the sitting room to the suite door. Once there, the wand changed direction, pointing away from the stairs and deeper into the castle. Severus paused a moment, considering.

Malfoy couldn't apparate from within Hogwarts. Nor could he Floo out: the only external Floo was in Albus's office. Flying was not a choice available to him while he was carrying a baby, and there was no way he could reach the edge of the wards in fifteen minutes, not without being seen. Malfoy had to be heading somewhere within the castle; somewhere he thought he would be safe – at least long enough to complete a Naming Ceremony.

Severus muttered a curse – Malfoy would be heading for the sub-dungeons. The place was positively labyrinthine.

"I'm coming with you."

Severus half-turned, growling in annoyance. "You are staying here. You will make sure that Mr. Potter gets the care he needs from Madam Pomfery. When he wakes up, you will make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Severus didn't give Ginny a chance to protest: he took off running down the hall, following his wand. He bellowed at students when they didn't get out of his way as first as he would have liked, and he took entire flights of stairs in a few bounds. He skidded to a halt in front of a statue of Merlin and nearly blasted it off its plinth when its secret passage didn't open quickly enough. Severus raced down the pitch-black, tightly winding secret stair to the sub-dungeons, falling repeatedly against the walls in his haste.

Eventually he emerged into a passage not much better lit than the staircase he had just descended. The walls were thick with grime down here, and the floor was slick with moss. Severus paused briefly to catch his breath and to re-cast the 'point-me' spell. His wand spun in his palm and settled pointing away from him down the corridor.

Severus proceeded more carefully here, knowing that wherever Lucius Malfoy had taken his daughter, it couldn't be too far away. And, with such an important hostage in the hands of his opponent, Severus couldn't afford to give up the element of surprise. He didn't even dare to cast a cloaking spell for fear Malfoy would detect the ambient magic.

He padded down the corridor, clinging to the deep shadows of the walls. Reaching an intersection, he paused and allowed his wand to reorient. He followed it to the left, the floor sloping downwards beneath his feet. He let his wand guide him through each junction he came to and every time, it pointed him down, ever deeper beneath the castle. Around him, the walls gradually ceased to be dressed stonework and became rough-hewn, raw rock. Severus knew by now where his wand was leading him.

Eventually, there came a sense of space ahead of him, and the sound of water. The tunnel ended and Severus lingered in the deep shadows of its mouth. This was where the lake's waters welled up out of the earth. This was, also, the seat of Hogwarts wards. It was a place so thick with magic that any form of scrying would never penetrate it. It was the perfect place for Lucius to perform the Naming Ceremony on Severus's daughter completely undetected.

Lucius was standing by the water's edge, his back towards Severus and a chalice in one hand. Beside him, a brazier smouldered. On the ground behind him, lying on a blanket, was Harry's daughter, naked as the day she was born and blue with cold. She was crying weakly. As Severus watched, Lucius threw a contemptuous look over his shoulder and bent to scoop up a chalice-full of water. He was casting a circle – the salt already marked the ground around the baby girl. Severus bit back a sigh of relief – he wasn't too late: Lucius had barely had time to begin the Ceremony.

Rather than charge across the intervening space and give Lucius a chance to react – Severus was not willing to take any chances with his daughter's life – Severus edged out of the mouth of the tunnel, and careful to stay silent, crept through the shadows, circling around til he stood much closer to the man and off to his left.

Once there, Severus slowly bent and plucked a small stone from the ground, not once removing his eyes from the other man. Straightening again, Severus waited. He would allow Malfoy to complete the protective circle – there was no reason to put his daughter in the middle of a magical duel.

Lucius cast the water and traced the circle one last time, his wand drawn and chanting under his breath. He completed the circle, it glowed blindingly blue for a moment, and Severus – who had wisely closed his to preserve his night-vision – threw the stone he held. It landed with a clatter by the mouth of the tunnel.

Lucius whipped around, his wand out stretched, blinking furiously. Severus cast an _expelliarmus_ at his back. Unfortunately, Lucius heard it coming, and threw himself flat. He flipped himself over and back onto his feet and cast a widespread slashing curse in Severus's general direction.

Severus blocked it, threw back a blasting curse and, while Malfoy still could not see properly, moved. The blasting spell hit Lucius in his left shoulder, dislocating it and spinning the man around. This, unfortunately, left him facing the direction Severus had moved in, and he saw him. Severus threw off another spell before Lucius could react and it left a laceration on the other man's leg.

Lucius ignored it and threw blasting curse of his own at Severus. Severus blocked it easily, but did not have time to block the jelly legs hex that followed it. He quickly cast the counter curse but not before he stumbled. And not before Lucius hit him with a hamstring curse. But his stumble had aided Severus here: it lashed painfully into his hip instead of the curse hitting his legs and incapacitating him.

Severus hissed in pain. He retaliated with a binding curse, but Lucius dodged it. Severus cast a Dark bleeding hex at the man. Lucius avoided it by stepping into the protective circle. Severus froze and the low-level stinging curse Lucius had just thrown hit him full on. Severus quickly threw it off, but it was too late: Lucius had already seen his weakness.

Lucius threw a Dark pummelling curse at Severus, who blocked it with a hasty _protego_ but didn't attempt to retaliate.

Lucius laughed and dropped his wand to his side, deliberately leaving himself open to attack. "Don't tell me you're worried about hurting the whelp, Severus."

Severus snarled and brought up his wand. He stopped.

Lucius laughed again, "By Hecate, you really are! Who would have thought the cold and heartless Snape would care about a baby. And Potter's, no less." Without taking his eyes off Severus, Malfoy bent and picked up the still weakly crying baby. "Here's your chance, man. You can kill me and Potter's brat all in one go. Wouldn't that be the ultimate revenge?"

Severus stayed silent, his grip white-knuckled on his wand. He ran through all the spells he knew, trying to find one that would penetrate the protective circle but would not harm his baby. His shoulders sagged slightly. There were none. And Lucius knew it too.

He put the child down again and moved to the very edge of the protective circle.

"You're a fool, Snape," he spat contemptuously and cast a disarming hex. Severus's wand flew out his hand and he was thrown onto his back. Lucius quickly followed the spell with a full body bind.

When he was sure Severus was securely bound, Lucius pocketed his opponent's wand and left the safety of the protective circle. He sauntered over to Severus's side and stood looking down at him for a long moment.

"You really are a fool," he repeated and drew back his foot and slammed it into Severus's side.

"Did you really think I'd let anyone stop me now? I'm about to do what the great Tom Riddle couldn't. I'm about to defeat Potter and I'm going to use his own child to do it. Poetic, don't you think?"

Severus glared mutely at him. Lucius curled his lip. "You're weak, Snivellus. You managed to convince everybody – even that old coot, Dumbledore – that you're completely harmless. And then you didn't take the opportunity presented to you on a silver platter: you didn't take the most powerful child born in our times.

"_Crucio_!" Lucius smiled in grim amusement as Severus's body stiffened and trembled under the force of the Unforgivable. "You know what I think? I think you bought into all the crap they were peddling, Snape. I think you really believed that Potter would defeat Voldemort and everything would be sunshine and roses and you… would get... e_verything_ you think Voldemort and the Potters and the _whole world_ denied you. Dumbledore sold you a story of redemption and a happy ending all of your own and you bought with your whole, blackened heart.

"Well, guess what, Snivellus?" Lucius bent down and placed his mouth by Severus's ear, whispering, "_It's all bullshit_."

He stood up again, smiling maliciously. "This – right here – _this_ is you getting what you deserve.

"You're not going to save the day this time Severus. You would have been better off killing me – and the brat – when you had the chance. Now, when they _eventually_ find their way down here, me and the baby will be gone, and you'll be left here, defeated."

Lucius took and step back and cast the Cruciatus Curse again, "I'm not going to kill you Snape. That wouldn't be nearly enough fun. Instead, I'm going to let you lie there and watch while I complete this Naming Ceremony and turn Potter's own flesh-and-blood against him. And you won't be able to do anything about it, will you Snape, lying there all broken and defenceless.

"And then I'll leave, taking this _precious_ little Potter-_spawn_ with me. And they'll come and find you and they'll _forgive_ you – isn't that what they do best? ­– they'll forgive you because you _tried_ to stop me.

"But you'll know better, won't you Snape? You'll know that you didn't try hard enough – that you _failed_. And the guilt will eat at you and eventually destroy you. Knowing that you _failed_. Failed to save the world and failed to redeem yourself."

Lucius finally lifted the curse and watched in twisted delight as tears of relief ran down Severus's cheeks. He lent down to whisper maliciously in his ear again, "And you know what will eat at you the most? The fact that you could never make yourself worthy of your parents. Not _evil_ enough for Daddy, not _good_ enough for Mummy. But Mummy loved you anyway, didn't she? Her precious. Little. _Failure._"

Lucius bounced up, a civilised mask on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ceremony to complete and a daughter to adopt."

Lucius turned his back on Severus and re-entered the protective circle. He picked up the chalice of water and carried it over to the brazier. He carefully poured a little of the water into the fire and the flames spat and leapt higher. Lucius began to chant, calling upon the ancient powers to witness the ceremony.

And all Severus could was lie there, staring at his tiny daughter, whom he'd only ever held once.

The waters of the underground lake were stirring now, pushed by a non-existent wind, as the spirits of magic responded to Lucius's summoning.

Lucius was wrong about one thing. It wouldn't be Severus's failure to live up to his parents' impossible expectations that killed him: it would be his failure to save his daughter.

Severus closed his eyes, unable to watch as Lucius took the remaining water in the chalice and poured it over his daughter's body.

He only hoped that it was Harry that found him first. There was no doubt in Severus's mind that the young man would kill him for this. And rightly so: if Severus had only spoken up, their daughter would have been named weeks ago.

Severus opened his eyes long enough to see Lucius sanitising a knife in the by-now blue flames of the brazier. He shut his eyes again. He couldn't bear to watch his daughter's future destroyed.

His snapped open again when she screamed. Lucius was crouching over her, making ritualistic cuts on her chest. Severus's whole body jerked in reaction. Lucius was performing a dark-magic adoption.

Bugger that! Severus could less about the world and he didn't give a damn about his pride or his dignity or living up to his parents' expectations. But Hell would freeze over and he'd wear a pink tutu before he failed his daughter and let _Malfoy_ adopt her.

By sheer force of will, Severus broke the body bind he was under and drew Harry's wand from his pocket. It wasn't his own, and he wouldn't be able to do any high level spells with it, but it was better than nothing.

Severus staggered to his feet and moved up behind Lucius – as quickly and quietly as he could. His wounded hip gave out on him just as he neared the man, and he collapsed to his knees. With all his strength, Severus plunged the wand into Lucius's thigh and gasped out the first spell that entered his head.

Lucius roared and surged to his feet, dropping the knife – thankfully nowhere near the baby. He stared, shocked, down at the wand protruding from his leg, Severus's hand still grasping the haft. He knocked Severus's hand away and Severus let him – the spell was complete anyway, and only time would tell if it had worked.

Lucius pulled the wand from his thigh and threw it away. He laughed.

"So there is some fight left in you after all, Snape. Pity it didn't work," Lucius rubbed at his thigh, and then at his hip.

His expression turning sour, Lucius viciously kicked at whatever part of Severus he could reach. Severus didn't attempt to stop him, just rolled away from the baby, wanting her to come to no harm.

"You stupid, wretched son of a diseased hippogriff!" Lucius screamed, "I'm going to be walking with a limp for months now!"

He landed one last kick in Severus's kidney and stopped. He rubbed at his chest and then brushed his hair out of his face. "It hardly matters anyway," he went on, calmly, "You haven't stopped me from completing the ceremony, just delayed me." He shivered with cold.

Severus flopped onto his back and a small smile curled his lips, "Sometimes, Lucius, a delay is all that's needed."

Lucius scowled and rubbed at his chest again, pressing the heel of his hand over his heart, "You don't honestly think that the cavalry's going to arrive at this late date, do you Severus? I –" He stopped, his hand stilling over his heart. His eyes widened, and he looked down at his body, finally noticing the cold that was spreading through him.

"What did you do to me?"

Severus huffed an attempt at laughter, "I'm not the one that's cold-hearted now, Malfoy."

Lucius tried to advance on him, but found he couldn't move his legs. He tried to scrabble for his wand, but his hands weren't responding. "_What did you do to me?!_" he screamed.

"_Conglacio_," Severus whispered, and enjoyed the expression on Lucius Malfoy's face as the last of his blood turned to ice, and the life died in his eyes.

* * *

Severus wasn't sure how much time had passed. The brazier was still burning and his daughter was still making sounds of disquiet. Severus turned his head to look at her. Her face was red from crying, but her hands and feet were blue with cold, and there was blood drying on her chest.

Severus turned onto his stomach and pushed himself to his hands and knees. Slowly, trying not to aggravate his hip, he crawled over to her and sat himself down. He gathered her into his arms, wrapping her warmly in the blanket she had been laying in. He held her close to his chest and unconsciously began to rock, whispering soothing nonsense under his breath. "_My baby, my little girl. It's okay. I've got you. You're safe now, my baby._"

Slowly she calmed down and stopped fussing. She blinked up at him and yawned. Severus smiled widely and it was only then that he noticed the tears of relief running down his face. He swiped at them with his thumb.

There was a sense of expectancy, of _insistence_ in the air, and Severus realised that the Powers That Be were still there. That they were waiting for the ceremony to be completed.

Severus looked around. The knife Malfoy had used to cut his daughter was lying within easy reach, but Severus scorned it. It was tainted: it had been used in dark magic before. Instead he used his teeth: he bit his tear-stained thumb until it bled. Severus shifted his daughter onto his knees and moved her blanket with his unblooded hand.

Sitting there all alone on the floor, deep under Hogwarts Castle, Severus Snape, dabbing his own blood on the forehead, lips and chest of his daughter as she stared, wide-eyed and solemn, up at him, named her "_Siobhan Aisha_."

* * *

Again, an indeterminate amount of time passed before Severus was brought back to awareness. This time, he and Siobhan weren't alone. Somebody was there. And that somebody was trying to take Siobhan away from him.

Severus lurched upright, clutching Siobhan to his chest with one arm and fending of the intruder with the other, "_Don't touch her_!"

There was a silence that conveyed surprise. The person laid a gentle hand on Severus's shoulder, carefully clear of his daughter.

"Severus, its Albus."

Severus blinked and looked around. Albus and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing over him, expressions full of concern. Severus attempted to get to his feet, but found he couldn't with just one hand.

"Here, allow me to take Harry's child and Kingsley can help you to your feet."

Severus snarled and turned away, shielding Siobhan with his upper body, "I said not to touch her."

Albus looked taken aback, "My dear boy, I-" He stopped when Severus glared hotly at him, "Yes, alright. I suppose… Kingsley, if you would be so kind?" The headmaster grasped Severus by the elbow, and the auror wrapped an arm about his waist and between them both, they managed to get the injured Severus to his feet without him having to relinquish his hold on his daughter.

When it was clear that Severus could not stand on his own, Kingsley continued to support him.

"Wands," Severus said, indicating his own in the pocket of Lucius's robes and Harry's where it had been thrown. Dumbledore obliging retrieved them and handed them to Severus, who stuffed them in his pocket.

He turned himself and Kingsley about to face the tunnel mouth and hobbled towards, forcing the other man to go with him. The headmaster looked around the cavern briefly before following them.

"I don't suppose you'll tell what happened down here, Severus...?"

Severus didn't reply, just held Siobhan closer.

"No? Well… perhaps later, after Madam Pomfery has checked you and little Miss Potter over."

TBC

A/N: Sorry if Severus is a little OOC here, but I think he had to be. In the next chapter he will be back to his usual surly, snide self.

A/N: Oh, and I'm sure you all guessed a few chatpers back that her name wasn't going to be Aisha Cearo (even though I really like that name). Her name has -always- been Siobhan, even before I first posted this story. Siobhan means 'praise' and Aisha means 'life'.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

A/N: I know that at the end of the last chapter, I said I would be updating more regularly. And I'm sure by now you've noticed that I lied. So. I'm sorry. I have a tendency to lie. And to not update.

But I got _Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Prince_ yesterday. And finished reading it yesterday, too. And that gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get this updated.

Never fear. There's no spoilers in this chapter. I couldn't exactly fit them in, even if I wanted to.

I will say two things about Book 6:

1. I liked it way better than Book 5

2. Even though I'm ignoring certain occurances. ;)

* * *

Chapter 19:

Even halfway down the hallway, Severus could hear the racket Harry was making in the Hospital Wing. He was obviously awake, and just as obviously very unhappy about being confined. Harry screamed in rage and something shattered. Severus winced in sympathy and held Siobhan a little closer to his chest. Kingsley adjusted his grip on Severus's waist and they slowly limped towards the din.

Albus reached the door two steps ahead of them, and pulled it open. Harry's cries were suddenly much louder, and in Severus's arms, Siobhan jerked awake. Once Kingsley had helped him through the door, Severus pushed away from him and propped himself against the wall so that he had the use of both hands to sooth her.

At the other end of the ward, Madam Pomfery was standing helplessly in front of a heavily warded door, from behind which came the sounds of Harry's fury. The Headmaster approached and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, speaking to her softly. At his words, the mediwitch quickly turned, her eyes seeking out Severus were he was slumped by the door. The relief in her expression was blatant. She hurried down the ward toward him.

To her credit, she didn't even reach to take Siobhan from him. Instead, she let Severus keep his daughter in his arms. Poppy peered at her carefully and then ran her gaze assessingly over Severus's body, cataloging his visible injuries. Finally she peered into his face.

"Is she alright?"

Severus nodded wearily. Now that he had Siobhan to a place he considered safe, his exhaustion was catching up with him. "Malfoy cut her chest, but the bleeding has stopped. She's okay."

Poppy nodded, "And you?"

Severus's lips twisted wryly, "I feel like I was trampled like a herd of hippogriffs, but it's nothing I haven't experienced before."

The mediwitch obviously wanted to push him to a bed and examine him, but she restrained herself when she saw Severus's gaze shift past her to the warded door.

"He's physically fine. Just a light concussion. And he's very…" she paused, looking for a delicate way to put it before she gave up, "pissed off. I've never seen him like this: he just tore through any wards I put up to keep him here. And he doesn't even have his wand." The awe was rich in her voice as she turned to look at the door too. "I had to get Albus to put up wards to keep him in."

There was crash and Severus and Poppy winced simultaneously. Poppy turned back to Severus. "I think it would be best if you took his daughter into him as soon as possible."

Instead of replying, Severus pushed himself off the wall and started to hobble down the ward. Poppy hovered at his elbow, but made no move to assist him, for which Severus was quietly grateful. "You have twenty minutes before I come to treat your wounds. Hopefully Harry will have calmed down by then."

Severus nodded curtly and, having reached the door, turned to look expectantly at Dumbledore. The old wizard's eyes twinkled as he drew his wand from his sleeve, "Better you than me, my boy."

The wards dissolved, and Severus opened the door and swiftly stepped inside. He pushed the door closed with his heel as he quickly assessed the room. The bed was the only piece of furniture that remained whole. Everything else had obviously been thrown across the room more than once, victims of Harry's rage.

Harry himself was standing in the middle of the room, the remains of a chair held high in one hand. His face was pale, making the bruise on his cheek bone even more ugly, and his hair was the most disheveled Severus had ever seen it. And his eyes… his eyes were wild with anger and fear. Harry stared wide-eyed at Severus for several long seconds before his eyes dropped to their daughter.

Slowly, the hand clutching the broken chair lowered to his side. Harry cleared his throat before opening his mouth, but his voice was still hoarse and barely above a whisper. "Is she okay?"

Severus nodded and – seemingly before the chair had even clattered to the floor – Harry was in front of him, one hand reaching tentatively to caress Siobhan's head. This was apparently all the reassurance Harry needed to break through his rage, because when Severus gently pressed her into his arms, Harry clutched Siobhan to him and collapsed against the other man's chest. Surprised, Severus dropped his hands uselessly to his side. Harry was whispering something, over and over again, and it took Severus a moment to decipher what the litany was: "_Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou-_"

There was a wounded sound, and Severus was surprised to realize that he had been the one to make it. Almost involuntarily, he brought his arms up, meaning to pull Harry against him, but he stopped, unsure. Still whispering his litany, Harry shifted Siobhan to rest against his shoulder, freeing one arm which he wrapped around Severus's chest.

Severus grunted softly and let his arms settle around Harry's back. He bent his head over Siobhan's, his lips almost touching her fine hair, and his cheek pressed against Harry's. He pulled Harry and their daughter tight against him and let his eyes close, just listening to Harry's quiet litany and Siobhan's soft breathing.

* * *

It was much more than twenty minutes later. Harry was perched on the bed, Siobhan still clutched to him. Severus was propped against the wall, arms wrapped protectively around his aching chest. 

Harry pulled back the blanket that swaddled his daughter, needing to reassure himself that she truly was okay. Fast asleep, she didn't stir at all as Harry stared down at her, his eyes tracing the bloodstains on her forehead, lips and chest. He knew what they signified, and his voice shook with doubt as he questioned, "This is your blood?"

"Yes," Severus was swift to answer, "The spirits had already been summoned for the Naming Ceremony. I completed it."

Harry nodded once, sharply, and the tension born of doubt left his shoulders.

"What is her name?"

"Siobhan Aisha."

Harry repeated it softly. And a moment later he asked, "What does Siobhan mean?"

Severus hesitated.

"Praise. It means 'praise'."

Harry nodded again. He reached out a finger and softly touched the cut on Siobhan's chest. He slowly traced it a few times.

"What happened to Malfoy?"

Harry's voice was so quiet that Severus barely heard the question. He wanted Harry to look at him, but the younger man stared fixedly at his daughter's wound.

"I killed him." Severus's voice was almost as low as Harry's had been.

Harry kissed two of his fingers and pressed them to Siobhan's chest, before wrapping the blanket securely about her again.

"Good."

Harry met Severus's eyes, and there was no hint of remorse in them, just cold satisfaction. And Severus couldn't fault him for feeling that way. He'd be a hypocrite if he did.

After that, Harry was silent for a long time.

There was a hesitant knock on the door and it inched open enough for Madam Pomfery to peer in. Severus cast one last glance at Harry and Siobhan and left the room to allow the mediwitch to see to his injuries.

* * *

"Why is he in your room?" a voice sneered. 

Harry turned to look at the intruder. Sirius stood, legs akimbo and arms crossed in the doorway, glaring belligerently at Severus, who was propped up in the second bed in the infirmary room. Harry was sitting in an armchair between the two beds, Siobhan cradled in his lap. Harry blinked at Sirius and darted a glance at Severus. The older man peered over the top of his book, sniffed and went back to reading, pointedly ignoring the visitors in the doorway.

"Sirius!" Remus admonished from over the other man's shoulder and nudged him into the room. Sirius gave ground with ill grace, shooting a glare at the werewolf. He didn't say anything further, however; just marched across the room and planted himself on Harry's vacant bed, gifting Severus with another sour look.

Remus sighed, rolled his eyes and followed Sirius into the room. Trailing behind him came Ron, Blaise and Dean. Hermione brought up the rear, leading a rather pale looking Draco by the hand. Harry felt a brief pang of guilt at the sight of his friend's face: Draco may not have liked him much, but Lucius had still been his father.

Though the others all noted Severus's presence in Harry's hospital room, they all chose to ignore him, as he was so pointedly ignoring all of them. Blaise dropped Ron's hand and hurried to Harry's side, peering down into Siobhan's face.

"Is she okay? Ginny told us what happened. Did Lu- did he hurt her?"

Harry reacted instinctively and shied away from Blaise's nearness, turning his upper body to shield Siobhan. In the bed beside him, Severus had also stiffened, his hand twitching towards his wand.

Blaise noticed Harry's reaction and backed off hurriedly, an apologetic half-smirk on her face.

"Opps. I guess you're still jumpy, huh? Sorry." She made her way back to Ron's side, lifting up his arm and wrapping it around her waist.

Severus glared over the top of his book at Blaise, but the tension had drained from his shoulders. Harry gave an abashed grin and relaxed again as well. "Yeah, sorry. Didn't mean to be rude."

Remus laughed softly and not unkindly. He perched himself on Harry's bed beside Sirius.

"It's understandable that you would react like that, Harry. Your daughter was stolen." He shifted his weight and pulled the chart he had sat on from underneath him, holding it in his lap, "I imagine you won't want to be letting her out of you sight for time now."

Harry smiled ruefully and shook his head in agreement, stroking a finger down Siobhan's cheek.

"But.." Hermione hesitated, "She _is_ okay, isn't she? I mean, h-" she hesitated again, glancing sidelong at her unusually subdued boyfriend, ".. nothing actually _happened_, right? To her, at least?"

"No. S- Professor Snape stopped him in time. He got hurt in the process, though." Harry gestured at Severus's leg, propped up as it was on several pillows. Everybody followed Harry's gesture, and Severus quickly dropped his eyes to his book again.

"So," Dean coughed, "No harm done right?" His eyes darted to the studiously oblivious Snape and he hastened to add, "I mean, everything's going to be alright, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "Madam Pomfery is going to keep us in for-"

"Harry!" Remus exclaimed, "You've named her! You didn't tell us you'd named her!"

Harry turned to stare at Remus, wondering how he knew. His eyes dropped to the chart Remus was clutching in both hands. Remus smiled at Harry and his daughter and looked back down at the chart, reading the personal information there.

"Siobhan Aisha S-"

He stopped. His eyes widened and he looked up at Harry. Slowly, his gaze swiveled to Severus, who had dropped all pretense and was staring back at him.

"_Siobhan_ Aisha?"

"Isn't Aisha her first name?"

"Yeah, what about Cearo? I liked Cearo."

Harry ignored the interjections of his friends. He held out his hand for the chart, "What, Remus? What's wrong?"

Like an automaton, Remus handed the chart to Harry, his eyes traveling between Harry, Severus and Siobhan. Harry held his gaze for a moment longer before looking down at the chart, searching for the cause of Remus's strange reaction.

And there it was. In black and white. _Given Names: Siobhan Aisha. Surname: Snape._ Involuntarily, Harry whipped around to look at Severus, the chart falling lax in his hand. Severus met his gaze and frowned at him. "What is it Potter?"

Harry opened his mouth, shut it again and raised the chart to pass it on to Severus.

It was snatched from his hand. Far from exclaiming over the change in Siobhan's name like Harry's friends had been, Sirius had been watching the strange exchange between Remus, Harry and Snape. There was obviously something in that chart that had perturbed Remus and Harry and Sirius would be damned before he let Snape see what it was before he saw it himself.

Harry jerked his head back around to gape at Sirius. He made an aborted grab for the chart, but stopped because he did not want to jostle Siobhan. Remus also attempted to get the chart back, but Sirius, even more determined since they obviously didn't want him to see, fended him off. He scrambled off the other side of the bed to keep out of Remus's reach. With one eye on the others, he scanned the chart.

Sirius froze and his knuckles turned white around the chart. Harry closed his eyes in resignation and clutched Siobhan closer to his chest.

"_Snape!_" Sirius shrieked and Severus bolted upright, his wand clenched in his fist.

"What the hell?" Sirius yelled, lunging across the room towards the other man. Remus leapt up and blocked him. Sirius paid him little mind, raging over his shoulder, "Why the hell does Harry's baby have your last name, Snivellus?"

Ron, Blaise, Dean and Hermione were all staring at the scene, their mouths gaping. Even Draco had shaken off his funk.

"Sirius! Don't call him that," Harry snapped, automatically defending Severus.

Sirius rounded on him, "Why are you defending him, Harry? This bastard's managed to give your daughter his name! Who knows what effect that could have on her? She could be _Slytherin_!"

Severus sneered, his wand still trained on Sirius, "And what would be so wrong about her being a Slytherin?"

"You filthy bastard," Sirius snarled, "What did you do?"

"Do?" Severus arched an eyebrow, "I didn't _do_ anything except complete the Naming Ceremony. I imagine the inherent magic recognized her paternity and named her accordingly."

"_What!_" Ron screeched, rounding on Harry, "_Snape's_ her father?"

Harry stood up and thrust Siobhan into Severus's arms. He hastily dropped his wand in favour of cradling her safely.

"Yes. He's her father." Harry planted his hands on his hips, "Do you have a problem with that?"

Ron turned purple in the face, spluttering. Sirius made an inarticulate sound of rage and Remus had to exert his inhuman strength to hold the other man back.

"It's _Snape_!" Dean exclaimed.

"He's your teacher, Harry!" added Hermione.

Ron got out, "He's a slimy git!" and Harry glared at him. He added, "He's _Slytherin_, Harry!"

"You have a problem with that, do you?" Blaise stamped on Ron's foot and moved away from him. Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but Blaise glared at him and he snapped it shut again.

Quietly, Draco said, "A Potter, Severus?"

Severus raised his chin, "A muggleborn, Draco?"

Draco snorted and then shrugged. And apparently, that was all he had to say on the matter. Hermione looked between her boyfriend and her professor. She wrapped her hand in Draco's and looked at Harry.

"Do you love him?"

"I –" Harry couldn't answer. He averted his eyes instead.

"What about Jason Phillips, Harry?" Remus asked shrewdly, "Why make him up? Why didn't you just tell us?"

"I –" Harry said again, and turned away, casting a glare at Severus's.

Severus sighed. He may have entertained a small hope that returning Siobhan would have solved anything, but he had known it was only in vain.

"He didn't know," Severus answered on Harry's behalf. Harry shot him a startled glance.

Sirius exploded again: "What do you mean he didn't know? Of course he knew! It's not exactly the sort of thing you m-"

"I obliviated him."

There was a sharp silence, then Sirius began struggling against Remus anew, "I'll kill you, you scum! Death Eater! You… you… paedophile!"

"Sirius!" Remus, Hermione and Blaise exclaimed.

Harry had gone cold at Sirius's words. "Get out," he hissed.

The visitors all turned to look at him, but nobody moved.

"GET OUT!" He yelled, and that startled Siobhan like nothing else had. She started to cry in Severus's arms. Harry took her from him. Without looking at anybody, he repeated himself.

"Get out. All of you. I want you to go away."

Sirius was beginning to look remorseful. "Harry, I –"

Harry glared at him and climbed onto his bed, where he proceeded to ignore everybody but his daughter.

Remus took Sirius by the arm and dragged him behind him out the door. The look on the werewolf's face did not bode well for Sirius and Severus smirked. One after another, the students filed from the room, Dean closing the door behind him.

Severus retrieved his wand from where it had fallen on the bedspread and twirled it between his fingers. That hadn't exactly been the way he's imagined acknowledging Siobhan as his daughter. He's hoped for something a little less… dramatic. Although, he supposed, Black's reaction was always going to be explosive.

Severus sighed softly and turned to address Harry. Harry pre-empted him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Severus."

Severus blinked. The boy wasn't even looking at him. He was curled on his side, facing away from him. Siobhan was tucked against his chest, still whimpering softly.

"Harry –"

"I _said_ I don't want to talk about it!" Harry snapped.

Severus rolled his eyes and decided to let him sulk. He picked up his book, found his place and went on with his reading.


End file.
